


Look at Me with Those Purple Eyes

by missjeonghanista



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Eventual Happy Ending, M/M, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2020-03-09 02:37:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 25,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18907807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missjeonghanista/pseuds/missjeonghanista
Summary: Jeonghan has learnt to keep his distance.Years went by and nothing changed.If Seungcheol stuck by his side even when he didn't want to, Jeonghan couldn't care less.If he had to share a house with 12 other kids, bring it on.He'll just distance himself and nothing will change.He just hasn't considered being happy an option, but the boys are happy to show that it is.





	1. My Gift, My Curse

Ever since he was a child, people had called him many names. At first he was confused, because he was sure his name was 'baby'. It was what he heard everytime a person approached him. 

 

Then his mother called him Jeonghan. 

Some other named him angel, beauty, lady-killer. 

 

He didn't understand what the obsession was. Why so many different people flocked to him almost everyday. He just wanted to play with his wooden horse and little sword. 

 

Why won't people leave him alone? 

 

Jeonghan remembered being five, and walking down the street with his mom because his father forgot his bag and they had to go deliver it. 

 

Jeonghan remembered seeing a man getting beaten by an old lady with an umbrella, people around either watching in disgust or passing by with no care at all. 

 

'Omma, why is that grandma hurting that uncle?' 

 

'Jeonghan-ah, some people don't have good inside them. Like that uncle. He stole food from that grandma. That's why.'

 

Jeonghan remembered vaguely being confused because that grandma's restaurant is always full and what's a little food for someone who looked so sad? 

 

'What did he do?' Jeonghan asked and his mother winced slightly. 

 

Jeonghan was pointing at a little boy, no bigger than he was, who that grandma pulled by his ears. 

 

'He is that uncle's son.'

 

'Is that wrong? Omma said we cannot choose our family so we must love them as they are. Why is that grandma hurting him for having a family?' Jeonghan frowned because it didn't add up. 

 

'It's complicated.' His mother begrudgingly answered and Jeonghan shook his head. 

 

'I can understand! I'm big now! I'm 5!' he huffed out and his mother's annoyance melted away into amusement. 

 

'Aigoo, you're a big boy now huh? So you know where the way to dad's office is?' His mother teased. 

 

Jeonghan didn't but he wasn't going to admit it so he pointed straight forward and his mother shook her head. She tugged his hand lightly to the right and Jeonghan followed in silence. 

 

'Omma, you'll explain it later right?' 

 

'Of course, later.'

 

Except later never came along and Jeonghan learnt the truth that it wasn't complicated. It was just selfishness. 

 

It was also his first time trying to explain to his mother that the little boy's eyes were _purple,_ but she wouldn't believe him.

 

Jeonghan told her to go look for the boy and they could see he was telling the truth. His mother took him to a stone and told him the boy was resting under the ground now.

 

Jeonghan didn't understand.

* * *

 

Jeonghan met someone with purple eyes a few months after, when he got into a fight with a bigger boy for messing up his crayons. 

 

His teacher brought him to the principal's office, probably to scare him but Jeonghan found the principal fun, with his loud voice and funny words.

 

The principal was slightly biased to Jeonghan, just like so many others enamored by his huge features, daintily placed on his fluffy cute face.

 

Jeonghan asked, 'How do you change your eyes' colour?' The principal chuckled heartily, eyes never away from the curiousity so evident on Jeonghan's face. 

 

'Well, there's this thing called contact lenses that people wear so their eyes can have different colours.'

 

Jeonghan frowned because why would people put in tiny, coloured plastics on their  _ eyes _ ? 

 

'It sounds painful!' Jeonghan exclaimed and the principal nodded slightly. 

 

'It can be, to some.'

 

'Then principal, why are you wearing it?' His face changed from jolly to mild confusion and he leant down to Jeonghan's level. 

 

'What do you mean?' 

 

'Yesterday your eyes were brown but today they're purple!' 

 

The next day, the class bowed in silence as the teacher explained that the principal had gone to heaven.

* * *

 

Jeonghan remembered being 8 and walking home from school with Chanhyun.

 

He had a warm smile and he always shared his colour markers with Jeonghan so they became fast friends.

 

'Raise your hand!' the lady at the intersection said and they did so, their other hands linked with each other as they crossed the street. 

 

'Chanhyun-ah, why is your eyes purple?' Jeonghan asked and Chanhyun frowned. 

 

'I think they're brown.'

 

'No, it's purple today!' Chanhyun hummed and then said, 

 

'Is it pretty?' Jeonghan nodded his head. 

 

'Then it's okay.'Chanhyun grinned as he pulled down his hand. 

 

They were walking by the street when Chanhyun realised he dropped his little airplane. 

 

'Ah.' He let go of Jeonghan's hand and the little boy turned around. 

 

But the girl in front of him was tugging him along so Jeonghan didn't get to ask Chanhyun what's wrong. 

 

'Oh! There it is!' Chanhyun exclaimed as he saw the little airplane. Quickly, he ran towards it because what if someone else took his favourite airplane? He smiled at himself, a little proud that he didn't lose the plane that his father gave him. 

 

'Omma will be proud when I tell her.'He thought to himself, smiling from ear to ear. 

 

Jeonghan heard the loud bang and a scream piercing through the air. 

 

When he turned around, Chanhyun was in the middle of the street, lying in a pool of blood with his little airplane in hand.

* * *

 

'Omma. Let's stay for one more night.' Jeonghan was 10 and pleading with his mother. 

 

'I thought you want to go to the amusement park tomorrow?' His mother asked and Jeonghan shook his head. 

 

'Let's stay with grandma for one more night.' He repeated and his mother glanced at his father.

 

'Darling, it's just one more night. Right, Jeonghan?' His father asked and Jeonghan nodded his head. 

 

His mother sighed in defeat and put down her leather duffel bag. 

 

'Well? Go put my bag back in the guest room. Omma will cook something delicious for dinner.'His mother laughed. 

 

Grandma was happy that her favourite grandson stayed and Jeonghan simply smiled and accepted his grandma's codling graciously. 

 

After dinner,Jeonghan threw a tantrum to sleep with grandma and forced his mother to sleep with her as well.

 

That night, Jeonghan stared into his grandma's purple eyes and told goodbye. 

 

'It's good night, cutie pie.' His grandma chuckled. 

 

_ No, this is goodbye, grandma,  _ Jeonghan thought to himself, gripping his grandma's weathered hand tightly. 

 

He fell asleep in stifled tears, listening carefully to the steady ins and outs of her breath. 

 

In the morning, she wasn't breathing anymore.

* * *

 

He was 16 and wondering why the fuck did he decided telling Seungcheol was a good idea. The boy was looking at him with a weirded out face, trying to hide his bewilderment. 

 

'So you can see  _ death _ ?' Jeonghan sighed, exasperated. 

 

'When someone is close to their death, their eyes change colour. At least to me.'Jeonghan repeated what he had said earlier. 

 

'Ouh cool. But why are you telling me?' Cheol asked. 

Jeonghan bit his lip. 

 

'Because the new kid's eyes are purple and you're getting attached to him.' Jeonghan wondered too actually, why he wanted to tell Cheol. 

 

But Cheol was kind and he helped Jeonghan out whenever he was bullied. Indebted, might be the reason. 

 

'That's not funny, Jeonghan.' Cheol said under his breath. 

 

'I'm not joking.' He hissed. 

 

Silence. 

 

Jeonghan looked back down to his book, trying his best to not glance at the other boy. 

 

Two minutes after that, Seungcheol walked out without another word.

 

The next day, Cheol came to him and stood in front of him without a word. 

 

Jeonghan knew. He just knew it, they didn't need to speak. He pulled Cheol into a hug and let the older boy cried on his shoulders. 

 

'He's gone. He's really gone.' Seungcheol told him in between sobs and Jeonghan bit his lip. 

 

_ I know, I told you,  _ he thought but it was too cruel to rub it into Seungcheol's wound. 

 

Seungcheol confessed to the boy. Because he was scared if it was true. They shared their first kiss under a streetlight and Seungcheol said it was magic. 

 

Seungcheol didn't want to let him go because he was so, so scared that that kiss could be their last. But he had to. There was no reason to tell the boy that this could be his last day alive when he wasn't sure if it was even true. 

 

But it  _ was _ true because a damn burglar couldn't leave an eyewitness alive to tell the truth. 

 

Jeonghan liked to think Seungcheol stayed as his friend because he was thankful that Jeonghan had at least gave him the chance to have a fond memory of his first love. 

 

But to be completely honest, a part of him knew Seungcheol stayed so he would know when his time would come.

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

Jeonghan is 20 now and entering college as a freshman. His only friend is Seungcheol who is pursuing his study in another university. 

 

He doesn't really care. 

 

Jeonghan puts down the last of his stuff in his new bedroom. He's the first one to arrive at the house and using that to his advantage, he decided to explore the house. 

 

The house is a two-storey townhouse with a communal kitchen, dining room and living room. There are 4 rooms. All of them occupied. He heard from the landlady that the other kids are high-schoolers who go to the art schools nearby. 

 

Seungcheol and another college freshman will share his bedroom but he isn't particularly bothered. He's fully prepared to spend every waking hours in his university's library after all. 

 

He does scowl when he sees the amount of  _ beds _ in the house. There are 13 beds and imagining how rowdy high school kids can be, Jeonghan frowns. 

 

Did he made a bad decision in renting here? 

 

But the rooftop has a mini garden and the fridge is well-stocked. The place is spacious even with 13 beds and the neighbourhood is famous for its quaint and peaceful environment. Plus, a famous park is only 5 minutes away by car  if he wants to escape so much. 

 

_ This'll have to do _ , Jeonghan mutters to himself, hands on his hips as he eyes his new bedroom. 

 

He is cutting open his box of books when he hears the sound of pass code getting punched in. Jeonghan jogs out of the room to the front entrance, just in time to see a young man taking off his shoes. 

 

'Oh, hi.'

 

'Annyeonghaseyo.'Jeonghan replied, bowing down slightly. The man looks flustered as he bows down too, breaking into a grin afterwards.

 

'I'm Jisoo. This is Seven, right? 'The stranger asks and Jeonghan replies with a nod and his name. 

 

'You're in college, right?' Jeonghan asks to be sure. Jisoo chuckles as he nods his head and the two of them walk towards their shared bedroom. 

 

'You can choose between these two. Cheol wouldn't care. That guy sleeps like a log even on the floor anyway.' Jisoo puts his bags down and stares at the two single beds. Then he looks at Jeonghan confused. 

 

"The other freshman staying here. Seungcheol." 

 

'Ouh.'

 

Silence.

 

Silence.

 

Silence.

 

Jeonghan wonders if silence ever felt so uncomfortable. 

 

'I, I'll just unpack some of my...stuff.' Jeonghan blushes and he immediately reaches for his books. 

He can kind of hear Jisoo chuckles behind him but he decides to leave it alone. 

 

In fact, he gets so engrossed into the whole unpacking business that Jeonghan jumps when someone taps on his shoulder. 

 

'I'm making coffee. You want some?' 

 

Jeonghan nods in his surprise and Jisoo goes away again, his footsteps as light and silent as when he enters. 

 

Regrettably, he can't say the same about Jun. 

 

Jun is an international student from China, a child prodigy in acting and now, a disciple of Chinese martial arts and a pretty damn good dancer.

 

He also doesn't know how to walk. Like. A. Normal. Human. Being. 

 

Jeonghan has lost count how many times he has to dive under his blanket in search for his earphones and stuff them in his ears in hope for some peace while doing his assignment. 

 

Or when he wants to enjoy a chilled mug of coffee just for the liquid to spatters on his shirt when the floor shakes under Jun's footsteps. 

 

'Jun! Stop jumping around!' Seungcheol yells to the ceiling of their room where directly above is the room of the senior high schoolers. 

 

Jeonghan grits his teeth as the stomping ceased for a while, and he can focus on his assignment once again. 

 

Jun might be rambunctious and childish but he listens well and Jeonghan is forever thankful for that. 

 

'You look stressed. Don't make Jihoon an example, okay?' Seungcheol calls out from his bed, eyes not flitting away from his game. 

 

Jeonghan nods and walks out of the room for a bit, wandering into the kitchen for a cup of mixed coffee. The kitchen looks out to the living room and the dining room between the two spaces.

 

He can see the high school freshmen watching TV and two of the seniors sharing notes on the dining table. 

 

Jeonghan's eyes focuses on that singular figure sitting alone on the first floor balcony. As expected of the Liberal arts genius of the best high school in Korea, Jeon Wonwoo is curled up in one of the rattan chairs with a translation of Plato's famous text, The Republic. 

 

He chuckles. Kids like him are seriously in a different level. 

 

On the other side…

 

Jeonghan keeps his smirk hidden as he looks at what Soonyoung is drawing on his notebook. Soonyoung is a genius too, Jeonghan figured, for all that he can say through movement and not words. Maybe that's why people call him the star of choreography in SOPA.

 

Though he does talk too much sometimes and annoys him. 

"I'm just saying Seven Teens. Since our house's name is Seven." Hansol says to Seungkwan who frowns. 

 

"Seventeen?" 

 

"No, Seven Teens. S."

 

"Shouldn't it be Thirteen since there's 13 of us?" 

 

"That's not the-'

 

'Why is it Seven Teens? We're not seven."

 

'Ouh, hyung? You want to join us?' Chan nods at the TV when he finds him staring. 

 

It's the maknae that really tugs on his heartstrings.Grinning and smiling like a literal sun day and night while being so smart that he gets moved up a grade in primary school, Jeonghan finds himself strangely protective when he sees Chan. 

He curtly shakes his head and brings his cup of coffee with him into his room. 

 

'I told you it's useless. That hyung doesn't like to talk. Or maybe he doesn't like us. Who cares?' Seungkwan's voice carries and Seungcheol looks up from his game in time to see Jeonghan's crestfallen face.

 

'You can just socialise with them, you know? No one is stopping you.' Seungcheol says softly. 

 

_ So I can lose them while knowing that their death is coming and I can't stop it?  _

 

Jeonghan shrugs it off, because he knows he's a fool and if he thinks on it too much, he'll make bad decisions. 

Or maybe it's too late? 

 

He's thinking about it even now.

* * *

 

Jeonghan likes routine. 

 

It gives him a sense of comfort; a lucky charm for his day to go well. 

 

He doesn't like to be late, he doesn't like oversleeping(on workdays)and he definitely  _ hates _ traffic jams. 

 

Jeonghan sighs, for what might be the hundredth time since this morning and presses his palm against the center of his steering wheel. 

 

'Sorry, hyung.. I'm burdening you..' Chan pipes up from the passenger seat, fidgeting with his coat. 

 

'No, it's fine.' He replies curtly. 

 

'You're mad…' Chan whispers under his breath. 

 

'I'm not.'

 

'You don't like me, do you, hyung?' Chan suddenly asks. 

 

Jeonghan sighs, again. He's stressed out from this slow as _fuck_ traffic, he's late to his own lecture and he hasn't eaten anything since last night. 

 

The holy trinity of anger. 

 

'Chan, you're one of the most passionate 16 years old I've met. So no. I don't hate you.' Jeonghan replies with the calmest voice he can manage. 

 

'Ouh. Thanks, hyung.' Chan replies shyly.

 

'Do you have to go to school at 8?' Jeonghan suddenly asks. 

 

'Huh?' 

 

'You haven't eaten anything, right?' Chan shakes his head, hand pressing against his tummy. 

 

'You won't mind missing out 1st period?' Chan shrugs, blinking at the older man. 

 

'Let's have breakfast.'

 

Jeonghan makes a sharp swerve at the intersection, going right, out of the busy lane. He peels his eyes out for somewhere they can stuff their guts and settle at a bakery/cafe.

 

Chan looks overly excited at the prospect of eating bread for breakfast and they quickly order some drinks and pick out an assortment of breads. 

 

Jeonghan finds out four things about Chan that day. 

  1. He doesn't like red bean breads. 
  2. He's a charming talker. 
  3. He's been living in a dorm since he was **_twelve_**.
  4. He deserves the whole wide world. 



 

When they finished, the traffic has reduced almost miraculously and the way to SOPA is a smooth sailing.

 

Of course, Chan misses an hour of his class anyway and Jeonghan skips his lecture all together. 

 

But, Chan thinks, it's worth it. 

At least now he knows Jeonghan hyung has an actual heart and doesn't hate him.

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

Jeonghan remembers the exact moment he first told himself to never let himself be close to anyone again. 

 

It's fall of 2005.

 

He was kneeling on the floor in front of a picture of his grandma. 

 

He loved his grandma, like an extension of his body. She was his voice when his parents were too loud to hear him. She was his friend when he find himself alone. She was a fellow Transformers, she was Pororo and for a very long time, she was his favourite person. 

 

He remembered asking his grandma why he likes her so much?

Grandma said, in silence is a voice you want to hear. In darkness, a face you want to see. In breathing, a scent so familiar. In heart, a person you will always love.

He promised then, kneeling on the floor that he would let no one be the voice, the face, the scent or the person that can hurt him like this.

Looking at the 12 boys fooling around as they sit around the huge dining table, just like they do every 2 weeks or so, he wonders why he makes such a serious oath to himself at such a tender age.

They'll see to great, long lives after all. 

 

'Ouh yeah, Han. What's your plan for tomorrow?' Seungcheol suddenly asks from all the way at the other end of the table.

 

Jeonghan shakes his head to tell the damn oaf that he doesn't want the others to know but instead, Seungcheol gasps.

 

'You don't have plans on your  _ birthday _ ??' The rest of the kids glance at each other, eyes frantic in sudden realisation. 

 

'I'll talk to you **_later_** about that.' he grits and  _ this _ time, Cheol gets the message and clams up instantly. 

 

The rest of the kids seem to get the idea too, because Seungkwan suddenly starts talking loudly about that funny show yesterday and everyone jump on the conversation like there's nothing else they would rather do.

 

Wonwoo's eyes are still trained on him but Jeonghan has long notices that gaze, inept enough to ignore it without seeing like he is.

* * *

 

Birthdays are over-rated, he thinks. What's so special about the day you're born? It will be right if his mom is celebrating, because it is her victory in giving birth that makes the day memorable after all.

 

But no, here he has to stay, on the dinner table with his family, accepting congrats on _living_ for another year with a fake smile. 

 

Mom doesn't seem happy that Jeonghan has chosen to wear a royal blue suit with a flower-printed tie since the dress code for the dinner is black and white. But she can't really scold the birthday boy for doing whatever he wants in front of the whole family, right? 

 

Jeonghan would love the dinner if it's held on his mom's side. His aunts and uncles are warm then, even if he's cold and his cousins know not to bother him much other than what little conversations they know are trivial enough to not matter. 

 

Here on his dad's side? 

 

'So I heard you're not going overseas for your degree?' Taeyeon asks innocently, her smirk carefully hidden as she takes another bite of her spaghetti.

 

'No. I'm happy to be at Yonsei.' Jeonghan replies dandily. 

 

'Well, Yonsei is good! It's, huh, good, of course.' His 2nd uncle says, his tone indicating anything but. 

 

'Well, Jeonghan has always been very kind to his parents, I see why he doesn't want to burden them.' His 3rd aunt simpers, the snark there pretty evident to anyone who knows to look. 

 

'We  _ have _ explained that he can go anywhere he wants, we'll buy him an apartment and a car as gifts but Jeonghan just wants to stay in Korea for now.' 

 

Jeonghan watches his mother talks, bemused at how easily she fell prey into their little traps.

 

His mother is always trying to prove herself, to be at the same standard as Dad's siblings but Jeonghan really wishes for her to stop. 

 

Why would she downgrade herself after all? 

 

'Ouh I saw your Instagram! Is that old place really where you're staying now?' Hyukjae laughs, earning disapproving glances from his parents. 

 

'Yes. I'm staying there now. Don't you think the house's architecture is admirable? To include both old Victorian elements with modern minimalistic features, it is going to be one of the pioneers to a whole new age in architecture.'

Jeonghan spits out literal bullshit with a smile and it isn't long before his cousins clamour to agree. 

 

He can play this little game all day if he wants to. But he doesn't. 

 

As soon as the cake is cut as dessert, some new flavour that's way too sweet for his palate, he takes a small bite and asks to be excused. He has a presentation due tomorrow, he reasons and his dad chides him for not doing it earlier. 

 

'I could but then I would miss volunteering last Thursday.'Jeonghan says sweetly, his mother smiles, recognising his attempt to make it out of there safely and his father puffs out his chest. 

 

'He gets that from you.' Dad says to mom, who laughs fondly.

 

1st uncle and 2nd uncle look like they want to rip that smile of dad's face, much to Jeonghan's glee. He bows to the entire family one last time before he gets out of the suffocating dinner room.

* * *

 

Jeonghan parks his car safely beside Cheol's. He usually doesn't drive because it's a headache but his parent insisted tonight, no doubt to show off the expensive, sports car to the others. 

 

The house is quiet, which is a source of concern and Jeonghan frowns as he climbs the short steps up to the entrance. 

 

He opens his phone, checks the house's group chat. Nope. No mention of any eating out or so. It's Monday, so there's no way the kids are back at their homes or something like that. 

 

His heart starts drumming heart. Something isn't right. He calls Cheol and it goes unanswered. Slowly, he opens the front door, his heart already listing out every worse situation that can happen and-

 

'SURPRISE!!' 

 

'HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR JEONGHAN (HYUNG) 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!'

'Blow the candles, quick!' Seokmin rushes and Jeonghan does so, quickly thinking his wish. 

 

It's stupid he knows, but it's a force of habit. Every year his wish is the same anyway. 

 

_ I wish to never see purple eyes again. _

 

'WOOOOO!!' They cheer once the candles are out and the 11 kids with Jisoo (yes, he deems Cheol a kid) rush in to the dinner table.

 

That's when Jeonghan gets to finally see the house. Helium balloons fill the ceiling while streamers seem to sprout from the walls. The coffee table in the middle of the living room is abundant with food (all delivered, of course) and the cake is placed on the dining table. 

 

There's a banner that says happy birthday Jeonghan hyung and he can't contain his smile. 

 

'Hyung, you're fine with blueberry, right?' Chan asks, referring to the cake. 

 

'Yes, I don't like sweet very much…' The three freshmen cheer and say, 'We had to choose the cake. Good thing I noticed!'

 

Jeonghan blinks. He doesn't think he has ever said it out loud or make it obvious. 

 

'Because you never eat Gyu's macaroons.' Ahh, so he  _ has _ been obvious. 

 

'Sorry.' Jeonghan mutters and the room fall into a heavy silence. 

 

Jeonghan frowns. Why are theyㅡAh, Jeonghan realises. He never really say things like that before.

'It's, it's okay hyung.' Mingyu scratches the back of his head awkwardly. 

 

'Okay then! Let's eat!!!!' Seungkwan shouts loudly and the rest cheer. 

 

Jeonghan catches Seungcheol's eyes and he laughs. He knows the others are wary of him but for once, for just maybe tonight, he wants to be able to laugh out loud and let himself not be lonely. 

 

Is that too much to ask?

* * *

 

Jihoon lets the college student plays with his hair, because he doesn't _know_ what to do with this version of Jeonghan. 

 

The three college kids had drunk some beer and now, pliant and giggly as he plays with Jihoon's hair is one Yoon Jeonghan he never met before. 

 

'Seungcheol hyung,' He hears Seokmin calls.

 

'Why does Jeonghan hyung distant himself from everyone? He always look lonely all the time and he never wants to let us near him.' Seokmin asks to drunk Cheol. 

 

'... Scared. He's scared to be close to people. I heard he used to be nice and friendly before his grandmother passed away. It must've traumatised him somehow.' Seungcheol sighs. 

 

The rest of the room fell quiet and then Cheol laughs. 

 

'Do you know he can see  **_death_ ** _??  _ Yup. The eyes of people who are going to die change to him. Purple eyes. If he sees you with those eyes, that means you're gonna die.' 

 

Vernon lets out a scoff and Cheol scowls.

 

'It's not funny. It is  **_true_ ** . Don't laugh at me Chwe Hansol!' Seungcheol shouts. 

 

Just then, Jeonghan stirs. 

 

'Why is it here again… purple eyes.' He points. 

 

The rest follow his finger and at the end of it is Wonwoo's cat, Poppy. Poppy stares back at the 13 pairs of eyes, licking her paw without a care.

 

'This is stupid.' Wonwoo grumbles, hugging Poppy and taking her with him to his room.

 

'You all better dig a grave.' Seungcheol says. 

 

The air turns tense and Seungkwan laughs awkwardly. 

 

It's not going to happen… Right?

* * *

 


	4. Chapter 4

Jeonghan comes back from the university to see the whole household sitting in the living room. 

 

He ignores them like usual but Jisoo calls him out. 

 

'Jeonghan. We have something to say.'

His eyes say please and Jeonghan caves. 

 

He takes the only seat empty on the armchair, feeling all kinds of vulnerable as many gazes come his way. 

 

'I'm really sorry, Jeonghan. I…Accidentally told them last night.' Seungcheol starts sheepishly. 

 

Huh?

 

Told them what? 

 

'Told them…?' Jeonghan prompts and Cheol sighs. 

 

'About that thing you can see. You know,  **_purple eyes_ ** .'

 

Fuck. 

No. 

 

'And you kinda told them Poppy has that.' Seungcheol continues.

Jeonghan's eyes flits to Wonwoo, whose eyes are red. Did he cry? 

 

'Poppy's dead. A car drove over her.' Wonwoo mumbles. 

 

Jeonghan knows Wonwoo is attached to that cat, emotionally. He has a picture of a similar cat with his mom on his side table and everyone knows Wonwoo doesn't see his mom often after the divorce and his mom moved away to Canada. 

 

His heart pangs with sympathy for the dear boy and without even thinking he says, 'I'm sorry.'

 

'It's okay. I know it's stupid to believe you can  _ see _ death or whatever. But in some way I guess I'm prepared for this since last night.' Wonwoo replies, fidgeting with the end of his sleeve. 

 

'Did you buried her?' Jisoo asks and Wonwoo nods. 

 

'I wanted to send her back to dad's house but...she.. I buried her there.' Wonwoo gulps and Jeonghan sees how hard the student is struggling. 

 

'We can have another, you know. A pet cat, I mean.'Jeonghan offers and the whole group stare at him. 

 

'That's right, hyung! It won't be the same but at least we'll have it to accompany us when we're here!' Chan agrees whole-heartedly. 

 

'Right… There's a lot of cats in pet shelters that need a proper owner…' Hansol continues and the rest murmur their agreement. 

 

Wonwoo's eyes meet his and Jeonghan tries to lift the corner of his lips to a smile.

 

'All in favour of a new cat?' Seungcheol asks, raising his hand. 

 

11 hands shoot up to join him and everyone stare at the odd one out; Wonwoo. He looks at every one of them, chuckles and then raises his hand too. 

 

'Let's go now! It's not always we get to all be free at the same time!' Mingyu pipes up and the rest start to disperse, yells asking about socks echoing in the house. 

 

Jeonghan slips away to the kitchen and drinks a cup of water. 

 

'What are you doing, hyung? You have to go with us.' Minghao says to him, eyes genuinely hopeful. 

 

'I..' Jeonghan stutters, an out of character trait he's prone to do when he's nervous and he bites his cheek when he hears it. 

Minghao looks away then, mumbling at himself. "You don't want to spend time with _**us**_. Got it.'

 

'...I'll drive.'Jeonghan finds himself say, instead of spouting any old excuses to get out of the whole debacle. 

 

But seeing Minghao's head snap up and a real grin surfaces on that face is enough for him to swallow the regret bubbling up.

 

* * *

 

They get a beautiful black cat who used to be a stray. His fur is silky and smooth, his blue eyes wide as he stares up to them. Wonwoo names him Neko and everyone chide him for such a basic name but they gave him the right to name him so they can't really do anything about it. 

 

Cheol pays for a new tag and Jeonghan makes reservation with the vet for a check-up. The cat doesn't meow much, content to sit on Chan's lap as Wonwoo and Jun take notes on the cat's special conditions. 

 

Neko has a deep scar on his back because his previous owner tried to kill him. They need to pay special attention to the scar in case it gets infected or something like that.

Neko gets lonely very quickly and likes to sleep on a bed with someone. 

Neko likes to sit on high surfaces but can be scared to come down on his own. 

Neko is very friendly with humans but doesn't like other cats very much.

 

Neko is now one of them.

 

Jeonghan, Jisoo, Wonwoo, Mingyu and Seokmin ride in the same car. Jeonghan looks to the back seat, where Neko is snuggling against Wonwoo. The boy catches his eyes and gives him a small smile. 

 

That's when Jeonghan gets the feeling he might already be in too deep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! If u have any idea u're interested to tell me about this fix, email me at wanamir01svt1004@gmail.com  
> Okay?


	5. Chapter 5

Jihoon doesn't really talk much. But he notices things others don't, always. 

 

Seungcheol is struggling with his studies; hiding it behind his obsession with games. 

 

Jisoo is having trouble making friends that is not high school kids and he chalks it up to being shy. 

 

Junhui is having problems with his family but he can't afford to be distracted in this critical time. 

 

And so on. 

 

He notices a lot about Jeonghan too. 

Jeonghan doesn't want to be lonely but forces himself to. 

 

Jeonghan finds Seungkwan and Seokmin funny but he never laughs to any of their jokes. 

 

Jeonghan knows he and Wonwoo stare at him almost all the time and he pretends he doesn't see. 

 

But now that they're alone with only each other as company, Jihoon finds himself avoiding Jeonghan altogether. 

 

'Jeonghan hyung.' Jihoon calls out carefully.

 

He still doesn't understand  _ why _ he, of all people has to stay at home. 

 

Sure, Seungcheol and Jisoo have lectures they can't skip, and the rest of them have exams that Jihoon doesn't. 

 

Ouh. So _that's_ why. 

 

Still, he isn't any good in even taking care of himself so how is he supposed to take care of Jeonghan? A  _ sick  _ Jeonghan at that? 

 

'Em.' comes a grunt. 

 

Jihoon takes that as a signal he can enter the room and so he does, with a bowl of instant porridge, some medicine and a glass of water. 

 

'Food.' He says awkwardly and Jeonghan gestures for him to put it on his desk. 

 

The older guy looks like death, almost as pale as the white tee he's wearing, with his non-stopping coughing and fuck, he's **_trembling_**. 

 

'You should eat it now. While it's hot.' Jihoon mumbles. 

 

'Later.'

 

'Hyung. You won't get any better if you don't eat.' Jihoon tries to sound stern but even he thinks he just sounds whiny. 

 

Jeonghan stares at him for a moment, shrugs and then sits on his chair, just looking at the porridge for a while. 

 

That's when Jihoon's eyes catch on that familiar looking object at the corner of the room. 

 

A guitar. 

 

'You like it?' Jeonghan asks, his voice raspy from sleep as he scoops up dollops of porridge. 

 

'It's beautiful.' Jihoon says softly, hands etching to hold it in his hand. 

 

There's two, he notes, one white and another black. 

 

'Take it. The black one.'Jeonghan offers and Jihoon widens his eyes almost comically. 

 

'The white one is Jisoo's.' Jeonghan chuckles. 

 

Jihoon takes the black guitar in his hand and without really thinking about it, starts tuning the strings. 

 

'You really like music, huh.'Jeonghan muses as he swallow the pills. 

 

He's back under the covers, eyes already starting to hood over.

 

'Play me a song, Jihoon.' Jeonghan says as he closes his eyes.

 

He regrets the words the moments they slipped past his lips. 

 

Somewhere in the middle of the fever haze his brain becomes muddled, and his one wish whenever he sees Jihoon so engrossed in his music presented itself. 

 

Can he take his request back now? Without sounding like a total obnoxious asshole? 

 

Jihoon wants to play for the mysterious college hyung, because somehow he's sure the other will not judge him for it. So he does, strumming chords with his fingers and singing softly in a whisper.

 

When he looks at Jeonghan, the older guy is smiling, already lost in sleep. Jihoon creeps out the room slowly, guitar tight in his hand when he hears those simple words. 

 

'It's _**beautiful**_ , Jihoon.' 

 

He hasn't expected the guy to hear, what's more to like it. It's one of his first songs, the ones that he manages to complete before crumpling it up in a moment of self-doubt. 

 

Jihoon decides the guitar stays in his room. The only audience it'll sing for is Jeonghan. 

* * *

Jeonghan is an honest man, most of the time. The better way to put it is he's an honest man when it benefits him.

 

But then, isn't that the same with everyone? 

 

Jeonghan is a good, no, _great_ liar. He can lie between his teeth even in the brink of life and death. 

 

He has always thought of it to be somewhat cunning of him; a skill that comes in handy during his adolescence and perhaps not anymore. 

 

The universe just **loves** proving him wrong. 

 

'Mister. You don't want to do this.' Jeonghan starts lamely, a line he's sure he has heard in one of those crime thriller dramas. 

 

The homeless guy only pulls Minghao tighter in his hold, the knife he's holding is dangerously close to Hao's face.

 

'These Chinese spies are fucking our country up… I, I have to get rid of them, so our country can prosper.' 

 

Jeonghan has to bite back the retort that him getting rid of his unnecessary, excessive saliva might be better for now but he doesn't think the man will appreciate his sense of humour. 

 

He's in the area for groceries because it's his turn. He's in this situation because Minghao suddenly sends a message saying he has an emergency and an address. 

 

His thought is a ride back home, that's all. 

 

But here he stands, listening to a crazy old man spouting nonsense about how the boy he has in his arms is a spy from China. Minghao, who is a high school second year who still misses Poppy sometimes. 

 

'I know, sir. That's why I'm here.' 

 

He needs to think fast. 

 

Luckily, wit is something Jeonghan is accounted for. 

 

'I'm taking him to the big bosses. You know the ones I'm talking about, right? Hurting him will only make him refuse to say anything. We need information, sir and he has it.' The homeless guy loosens his grip for a moment, lost in his thoughts. 

 

'Sir, if you don't let go of him the police will come soon. And  _ you  _ know we cannot trust the police.' Jeonghan tries to inject a little more scandalising tone and it seems to work because the guy lets go of Minghao reluctantly. 

 

'Let's go.' Jeonghan pulls the neck of Minghao's shirt. 

 

The boy stumbles to catch up with Jeonghan's impatient pace and by the time they get into the car, he's panting. 

 

'Shouldn't we wait for the cops?' Minghao asks. 

 

'Do you want to be arrested for working under-age?' He falls silent, fidgets with his hoodie zipper instead of answering Jeonghan's question. 

 

'I thought so too.'Jeonghan grits and the car swerves, joining the many lanes of automobiles moving uptown. 

 

'I'm sorry for making you come there. And thanks. For saving me.'

 

'Don't make it as if I'm some kind of a hero. What were you thinking? Quit working at that bar. Next time I might not be there in time.' Jeonghan replies with a sigh. 

 

Once Jeonghan parks his car, he slides a business card on the dashboard. 

 

'My mom is opening a boutique. She needs hands to decorate. If you're desperate for cash, you can go there this weekend. Tell her I send you.' 

 

Jeonghan tries to sound nonchalant. But the puppy eyes Minghao is sending him is really hard to ignore. 

 

His face cracks into a smile. 

 

' I know you're trying your best not to depend on anyone but your mom puts you in a sharehouse for a reason. If you need anything in the future, asks the boys. Don't go wandering to some sketchy places.' Minghao nods his head. 

 

His hands haven't let go of that card yet, as if it's some kind of a lottery ticket to heaven. 

 

'Hyung… Don't tell the kids about this?' Minghao pipes up in a small voice and Jeonghan nods. 

 

His mom tells him later on that Minghao has a natural talent in design, the piece he has made during the weekend when he thinks she isn't watching makes many customers step into the boutique, intrigued. 

 

Later on, Minghao tells the house that he has a part-time job as a designer at Peony's Boutique and they don't have to help cover for his part of the rent anymore. 

 

As they celebrate with a tasty mango cake that Mingyu bakes (having a housemate in culinary school has its perks, after all), Minghao stares at Jeonghan long enough for the back of his head to feel warm and when he finally looks back, he mouths 'thank you'. 

 

Jeonghan smiles, decides that he's been to lax on his rules and escapes into his room. 

 

Seungcheol chuckles when he sees him darting across the living room and Jeonghan gets a feeling he already sees what Jeonghan is suspecting. 

 

He's opening up to them, and he's scared.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the very very late update....


	6. Chapter 6

Jeonghan trades his expensive sports car for an MPV and a sedan, mostly because the MPV is easier for when they want to eat out and the sedan is much more unnoticeable at his university. 

 

That's his goal in uni after all, to be invisible. 

 

Jeonghan has no problem driving people away from him. It's easy to not get close to anyone if you make it a habit to go to class in hoodies, a face mask and generally never takes part in anything. Especially in his major. 

 

Business management, just as his parents planned him to and because he doesn't really have a dream of his own. He spends years avoiding contact with people more than necessary so he really hasn't think well about his dreams. Before he knew it, a letter of admission to Yonsei University was placed on his desk and his father said, be grateful. 

 

Jisoo may have that noble ambition of fighting injustice to minorities (by pursuing law) and Cheol has that grand scheme to be a CEO of a successful entertainment agency (by pursuing mass media) but he doesn't. 

So he's content with this. 

 

He eats alone, goes to lecture alone, gets lost alone and at the end of the day, gives himself a pat in the back for another job well done. Being alone doesn't mean he's lonely. Being alone means he'll be fine. 

 

So can someone please, explain why he is now in line to buy two more tickets for Akaraka when he has graciously gave away one? 

 

As some might have guessed, the answer will always be Boo Seungkwan. Boo Seungkwan who somehow found out every single artist who'll be attending,  _ including and especially _ his obsession, Wonder Girls. 

 

'Hyung, please. I'm begging you. This is their first activity in years. Who knows when they'll have another comeback? What if it's never? I  _ need _ to be there.' Seungkwan is near to tears and near to kneeling down on the ground. 

 

He turns to the two college kids behind him on their beds, Seungcheol who secured an interview with a famous anchor can't be bothered to get a ticket and Jisoo thinks the whole thing is a waste of time. Lost causes. 

 

He turns back to Seungkwan, pulls out his own ticket and hands it to him. 

 

'Here.' Seungkwan blinks and takes the ticket, holding it preciously in his hands.

 

Jeonghan doesn't know why he's reminded of Gollum, of all things. 

 

Thinking back, it's a great idea after all. Seungkwan gets to go to see his favourite idols and maybe rest the sarcasm he seems to enjoy sending Jeonghan's way. Jeonghan gets to spend an evening with peace and calm. 

 

But no. Peace and calm? As if the universe will ever let that happen. 

'Hyung...i might have brought the ticket to school… And it might have gotten ripped…' Seungkwan calls him in the middle of the lecture and judging from the sniffles echoing on the other side, he's in the toilet. 

 

'I'm sorry hyung, even though it's your own ticket…' Seungkwan is probably really close to full-on bawling and Jeonghan just doesn't need that right now. He presses the middle of his forehead, a migraine is coming up just by listening to Seungkwan's sobs. 

'I'll buy another one. Just stop crying and get back to class.' He ends the call, in midst of Seungkwan's surprised 'oh?'. 

 

So that's how he's here. Buying two tickets because apparently, underage kids need a guardian with them. Seems like he'll have to go anyway. 

 

Jeonghan doesn't like festivals. It's loud, it's humid and it's full of people shoving each other around. He watches Seungkwan mostly, because he doesn't want to strain his eyes looking at the stage 30 feet away and that's entertaining enough. 

 

Seungkwan is sporting a blue Yonsei University shirt, courtesy of Cheol or Jisoo maybe, just like the rest of the students in the amphitheatre. 

 

Jeonghan sits on his seat, idly scrolling down his Twitter, sometimes glancing up to see Seungkwan nearly in tears or aggressively shouting fanchants. There's no in between. 

 

'Encore! ENCORE! ENCORE!' Seungkwan shouts and Jeonghan looks up from his phone just in time to see Sunmi waving up at their direction. 

 

'Ouh, that male student over there, are you a fan? We already have an encore but I'll be looking for you in our next concert!' Sunmi winks at Seungkwan and Jeonghan smiles as the fanboy melts into a puddle of goo. 

 

'Hyung, did you hear that?! Sunmi noona noticed me! Ahhh this is the happiest day of my life!!' Seungkwan shouts, not even caring the wild stares people are giving their way. 

 

Dinner comes first before they get home and Seungkwan is ravenous enough. Jeonghan watches as the boy eats and then Seungkwan is shyly putting a piece of grilled Korean beef on his rice.

 

'Thank you, hyung. I guess you're not that bad of a person, after all.' Jeonghan scoffs because he can think of no one that can handle Seungkwan's fanboying as good as he did the entire night. He shrugs and says, 

'Eat up.'

The auntie who served their second serving of Korean beef gushed at them AND Jeonghan flinches.

_ Purple eyes.  _

 

'Let's go.' Jeonghan says once they finished eating. Seungkwan looks longingly at the unfinished kimchi but the college student is already out the door, grimacing. 

 

'Hyung, why are you-' The driver's door closed with a slam. 

'Do me a favour. Shut up.'Jeonghan knows it's harsh, Seungkwan prides himself in funny conversations after all. 

It's just… the eyes. 

They get him every time, plunging his little moments of peace and happiness into a swirling storm of dark thoughts and misery. 

Death comes to everyone. It's ultimate, unavoidable. Why give him the curse to see it coming and no power to stop it in any way? 

Seungkwan doesn't say anything the rest of the way home, probably guessing what happened on his own. 

He doesn't come up with a snappy comeback whenever Jeonghan rejects any invitation after that,  _ as always _ and Jeonghan thinks that's enough, even if his gaze gets colder by the second. 

* * *

 

 

Jeonghan doesn't like movie nights, but if he doesn't want to hear snarky remarks from Seungcheol for a week or two, participation is obligatory. 

 

It's not like he hates movies or such. He hates sitting on the sofa, with Soonyoung and Seokmin flanking his two sides.

 

He thinks it has something to do with Cheol. The oldest guy must've made it his mission to thaw Jeonghan's frozen heart through these two loud, rowdy kids. 

 

Tonight is actually pretty good, they've picked out The Greatest Showman and someone early on tells Seungkwan and Seokmin to sock it. So maybe they'll get through the movie without so much commotion. 

 

It's 10 minutes in and Jeonghan already wishes for death. 

 

Soonyoung and Seokmin are constantly,  _ constantly,  _ humming the first song and it's really getting under his skin. 

 

Jeonghan grits his teeth when he misses yet  _ another  _ scene because Soonyoung starts throwing popcorns to Seokmin. 

 

'Can you guys stop it? Be quiet.' Wonwoo interjects, probably seeing the discomfort apparent on Jeonghan's face. 

 

Seokmin gets up at some point, to get something to drink and Jeonghan's anger is really simpering at the edge when he sees Soonyoung's outstretched legs and that smirk he wears.

 

'Soon-' 'AHHHH! I'M SO SORRY HYUNG!!' 

 

Have you ever been so mad,  _ so mad _ that you literally feel your head warming up infinitely fast? 

 

Lucky for Jeonghan, Seokmin manages to douse his head with orange juice as he trips over Soonyoung's foot. So he can say his head is cool,  **_very cool_ ** . 

 

The boys turn their attention to Jeonghan, for a deathly moment of silence, so silent indeed that even the Swedish Nightingale's impressive voice goes unnoticed. 

 

Jeonghan stands up without a word, ignores Soonyoung and Seokmin who's fidgeting and staring at their feet and gets into his room. 

 

Jeonghan changes into a new outfit after a quick shower, the smell of orange still stubbornly sticking on his hair but he'll make do for now and reaches for the bedroom door. 

 

'I, it was a joke! I didn't see him holding that glass!' 

 

'So you think it's okay? What if he falls and hit his head on the table?' Seungcheol is scolding Soonyoung, Jeonghan realises. 

 

'We should say sorry to Jeonghan hyung. Although I'm sure he already hates me.' comes Seokmin's little, scared voice. 

 

'What are you saying? Jeonghan is not petty.' Seungcheol sighs. 

 

'Well… he might not have hated me but he sure does now!' 

 

Jeonghan hates eavesdropping. Did he mention that? He does and he can't stand it when people talk behind his back. Jeonghan emerges from the room, and immediately asks, 

 

'Should I bring out some futon?' 

 

The boys stare at him and Seungcheol quickly asks if he needs help taking them out. The sofa is moved out, for cleaning later and the boys laid out futons in its place. 

 

'What are you doing?' Seokmin stops trying to wriggle his butt in between Jihoon and Wonwoo, looking up at Jeonghan. 

 

'Ouh?' 

 

'Come here.' He just meant to the futon, because obviously there's no space on the couches anymore but Seokmin seems to hear it as a free pass to cuddle up on him. 

 

'Ah, hyung you smell nice.' Soonyoung pipes up, snuggling up on him from the other side. 

 

'Like orange juice!' Jeonghan forms a small smile and Seokmin sniggers, which brings up ripples of laughter from around the room. 

 

'Your hair does look kind of orangey…' Soonyoung comments, trailing off as he pulls on a strand of Jeonghan's hair.

 

Another set of laughter bursts and then Jihoon is throwing down his pillow at their general direction, fuming. 

 

'LET'S SHUT THE FUCK UP AND WATCH THE MOVIE! OKAY? OKAY!' The rest shut up almost immediately, safe for a couple of loose pffts from Jun. 

 

'How can so much anger fits in someone so little?' Soonyoung mumbles under his breath. 

 

Jeonghan lets out a little chuckle, mostly affected by the loud laughter just before but it catches Soonyoung's attention and if the hamster-like boy snuggles closer, Jeonghan doesn't say anything. 

 

Jeonghan thinks that's the moment when he actually consider it.

 

> _ What if I just don't push them away anymore? _

 

He pushes that dangerous seed to the back of his mind quickly, focusing back to the screen, still fully aware of the two boys' heads weighing down on his shoulders. 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Jeonghan likes to think he has grown immune to the desire of knowing other people's business, or other people, period. 

 

He's not curious about your pet name, how old is it or if you're having a rough day because of your old, rotten heart proffesor.

 

He's curious, though as to why Hansol shuts his bedroom door tightly before him and doesn't let anyone get inside for the whole night. 

 

The only person who seems to know is Seungkwan but no one can ask him what the ruckus is all about.

 

Because they're **_fighting_**.

 

It isn't even the petty, 'I'll get you someday for that prank' fight. No, this is Cold War 2, with Chan, who shares their room as Switzerland. 

 

He wouldn't have bothered with them giving each other the cold shoulder if, Seungcheol hasn't made him and Jisoo talk to the other two. 

 

He has an essay to make out of scratch and Seungcheol's pea head thinks it's a grand idea to steal their room's keys and threaten the other two college kids for the youngsters' reconciliation.

 

What a fine, calm night indeed to be outside.

 

Jisoo approaches Seungkwan who's noisily pestering Mingyu alongside Seokmin, probably for some food since it's dinner time. 

 

That means his destination is the rooftop, because that's where Hansol and Wonwoo go when it gets suffocating. 

 

His insight is correct, as always, Hansol is lying down flat on his back between two rows of plants, big old headphones covering his two ears. 

 

His footsteps are light and he stands in front of Hansol, in a way, successfully blocked his field of vision. 

 

'Hyung.' 

 

He takes off his headphones, which is a good thing, and pulls his legs in to allow Jeonghan some space for him to sit.

 

The college kid takes out his phone and starts typing. 

 

Google Docs can be quite useful if your roommate is blackmailing you with your laptop, you know. 

 

'You're not asking why I'm not talking to Seungkwan?' 

 

Jeonghan shrugs. 

 

'Tell me if you want. I'm not that curious.'

 

'Why are you here then?' 

 

'Seungcheol kicked me out of the room. And the house is too noisy right now.' 

 

Sounds convincing? Jeonghan knows his true calling is marketing, he truly has a way with words. 

 

'Seungkwan is just… too loud sometimes. It wouldn't have hurt him to just be quiet about some things.' 

 

Silence. Hansol is glancing his way to check he's listening. Jeonghan nods, nonchalantly. 

 

'I mean, I met some of the underground rapper hyungs I've idolised since forever, and I took Kwannie with me because he had been pestering me. But then he started telling them all these embarassing stories about me. 

 

I'm dead if I'm against any of those hyungs. They'll diss me out of the whole thing, you know what I'm saying? '

 

He does not. 

 

But he nods, again, nonchalant.

 

'I'm sure half of the people there already know…' 

 

His deep frown stirs something in Jeonghan. Care, maybe? 

 

'Just diss them back. If they're going to use those stories against you, find out dirt about them.'

 

'It's better if you just do your best though. Rather than humiliating secrets, it's better to win with talent, no?' 

 

Jeonghan literally has **_zero_** knowledge about 'underground rap community' but Hansol seems to be happy enough with his somewhat sincere advice and he receives a grin. 

 

'You're right, hyung! If you have rhythm and flow, you can just blow the haters away with your rap!' 

 

Hansol's paraphrasing seems oddly a little different than his actual words, but Jeonghan smiles back regardless. 

 

The boy rushes back downstairs, his epicly loud voice announcing his apology to Seungkwan and reassurance that everything is back to normal again. 

 

Jeonghan wonders how the youngest ones' minds are so loud, as such as their voices. 

 

Is it enthusiasm? Passion? Joy? 

 

Somehow Jeonghan can't believe he has passed their age with brooding steps, void of the excitement that seems to flow in their very veins. 

 

But then, his adolescent days were filled with trying to survive the bullies and mantain good grades so getting through is a miracle all in itself. 

 

He comes down the rooftop to see Seungkwan, Seokmin _**and**_ Hansol tormenting Mingyu and an open door to his room.

 

Hansol gives him a huge grin, unnoticed by the other three who have their back on the oldest. 

 

Jeonghan returns the gesture with a wave of his hand, 'it's nothing'.

 

And he honestly has thought it as so. 

 

Now, as he closes the door behind him and glares at Cheol, he thinks maybe the avid gamer is much more sly than he has expected. 

* * *

 

If he wants to, he can get up, make some bullshit excuse to Cheol and heads out the exit on the far left corner of the court.

 

But he can't. 

 

Jun was shaking like a leaf when he scanned the bleachers and saw none of them there. 

Relief washes over his features as clear as day when he spots Jeonghan dashing towards the seats. 

 

Jeonghan never come to his competitions, needless to say another rule he's written in his mind about keeping boundaries.

 

He just wonders if his 'boundaries' allows him to ignore a potential national athlete when Jun simply needs someone to sit there who knows him beyond his name. 

 

Panic attacks and nerves are common for Jun. It is what makes him take a step back from his childhood of acting in front of cameras and adults who demand more of a kid than he knows. 

 

His parents thought South Korea is a good idea. Jun has a learning fetish for something new, different and Korea has a lot of martial arts prowess for him to discover.

 

At first, when his competitions were far and few between, his parents will fly in to see him. It somehow contributes to his current need for at least one person of his support present. Since his name skyrocketed last year, the housemates have decided to carry out that responsibility ourselves. 

 

After all, there are 12 of them, someone is bound to be free somehow. 

 

Today, that someone is Jeonghan. 

 

Jeonghan looks to his right, the rows and rows of high school girls and boys holding out slogans and shouting cheers. He looks down at his two empty hands. 

 

So much for support.

 

Jun still smiles though, so widely as he waves at Jeonghan. The girl next to him squeals, mistaken the wave for her instead and Jeonghan smiles back at Jun. 

 

His opponent doesn't have Jun's long limbs or his swiftness but he does have shapely muscles and sheer strength oozing out of him. For a moment, there's this disctintful crack echoing in the court and his heart drops as Jun is pinned under that guy.

 

He emerges, victorious but it doesn't settle down that bile coming up Jeonghan's stomach.

 

How can those kids watch this and cheer? 

 

Jun does one move that sends the other kid flying out of the map and all the high school kids stand up and cheer the roof off. Jeonghan stands too, if somehow awkwardly and claps his hands. 

Stupid, he knows. 

 

A few hours after, Jun gets another trophy that'll be on its way to China before the end of the month and Jeonghan gets to finally escape the loud indoor court. 

 

They're in their car and Jun is strangely quiet. The boy is originally monosyllabic, but the strange, sorrowful vibe coming off him distracts Jeonghan a bit. 

 

'Congrats.' 

 

'Hm? Ouh, thank you, hyung.'

 

'You don't look happy.' He tries. 

 

'It's just an inter school competition. It would be humiliating if I didn't win.' 

 

'Still looks cool though. It's my first time seeing your match.' Another try. 

 

'It's okay, hyung. I know you came because the rest can't. Thanks, by the way.' 

 

It stabs that Jun says it as if it is nothing; as if a mask or a life-size figure of the boys would have been enough as his substitute. 

 

'Should we stop for lunch?' He gets a shrug in reply and then Jun is pulling his hood over his head and settling deeper into his seat.

 

Jeonghan takes it as a no and drives straight to their house. He shakes Jun awake and the boy's head tilts to his side. 

 

Jun is crying. 

 

'Jun? Moon Junhui!' His hands come up faster than his eyes open, covering up his face. 

'Ah, we're here.' He pushes the door open and it doesn't budge. He looks at Jeonghan and sees a fixated gaze. 

 

'I'm not letting you out until you tell me what's going on.' Seungcheol would've scolded him. He never spends a moment with Jun but here he is, threatening the boy to spill whatever is troubling him. 

 

'I don't want to go back to China.'

 

_**What?** _

 

'My parents are taking me back to China the end of this week. I want to stay here with everyone but they say I must go back there and go to college and take care of dad's business.' 

 

'I want to win the national tournament, but what's the use now? I won't be able to attend the whole thing.' 

 

'Have you told your parents?' 

 

'Hyung, if they listened to me, I won't be telling you.' 

 

'So they'll listen to me. Tell your parents to come here when they're free. The four of us will have dinner and I'll explain why you have to stay here.' 

 

Fact:A human's eyes don't glitter or sparkle naturally. But for a slight second before Jun attempts to hug him to death, Jeonghan thinks he sees the Chinese boy's eyes hold stars in them. 

 

As it turns out, Minghao (Jeonghan's last minute addition in fear he isn't enough) and his soft-spoken Mandarin gets through the most, while Jeonghan's Korean solidifies the base he lays through.

But of course it is Jun's stifled sobs and earnest wishes that pull on his parents' heartstrings and make them see the fine young man made of parts of themselves.

 

When Jun's parents hug the two of them at the end of their dinner, Jeonghan gets the feeling that they hate him for organising the whole thing. But Jun's mother hugs him for a second longer, and with her limited Korean says,

 

'Thank you. I've heard you.' 

 

They go home from the restaurant, tired from the psychological tug-and-war, just to open the door to a litter of worry-sick puppies who bombard them with questions the moment they hear the door opens.

 

Jun smiles and laughs a lot that night, and they spend hours helping Jun unpack his many luggage. As much as Minghao tried to convince him their plan will work, Jun says there's nothing wrong in packing his bags. He already said his goodbyes before the dinner, fully expecting he'll have to fly back to China that night. 

 

As it turns out, life has a different plan for Jun. 

 

Jeonghan opens his bedroom door the next day to a trophy. 

 

_Your first judo match. Thank you, Jeonghag hyung._

Was written in awkward hanguk, the misspelling tickles him a little inside.

Jeonghan chuckles at the childishness, recognises the trophy from that one time he went to see Jun's match. He holds the trophy tight to his chest for a second and then places it next to his best student plaque. 

 

It fits, somehow.

* * *

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Mingyu is so… different.

 

He's loud the moment Jeonghan wishes for things to be quiet.

 

He's easy to flare up in sudden anger and easy enough to come down from his wrath. Jeonghan bottles everything up and forget, or he bursts out in unexpected moments.

 

Jeonghan studies almost all the time in his room, hidden and quiet. Mingyu studies in the dining room, while catching glimpses of whatever is on the telly and another hand grabbing corn chips.

 

Mingyu likes food that is so _strong_ in taste, abundant in spice and ingredients, rich, leaving a distinct aftertaste. Jeonghan likes mellow and soft flavours, simple design and minimalistic ingredients.

 

Mingyu dresses up in lavishness; concepts and colours all taken into accord. Jeonghan wears button-ups, khakis, jean jackets and blazers; in shades of grey, black, white or brown.

 

Jeonghan hates nights when Mingyu has something to celebrate, because the 'noisy team' will gather; chatting, eating and playing till early hours of the day with Jeonghan not getting a wink of sleep. Mingyu hates times when Jeonghan laughs abruptly at something Seungcheol or Joshua says; inside jokes that only the three of them share.

 

 So. 

 

When Jeonghan stumbles upon Mingyu, confessing his soul out to the bathroom mirror, awkward doesn't cut it. Mingyu wills the ground to swallow him whole and Jeonghan to be flung away somewhere else, preferably very, **_very_** far.

 

Jeonghan just wishes he doesn't get dragged into another one of heart-to-heart situations he seems to be sucked into these days. But he really just can't resist asking.

 

' _Our_ Seo Myungho?'

The  _Seo Myungho_ who is currently taking Seokmin's measurements for one of his designs? 

 

Mingyu sighs and melts down onto the floor like ice cream in the middle of a sunny summer, whining and mumbling to himself.

 

So... he's correct?

 

Fast, big strides lead Jeonghan away from the disgruntled boy, who has taken to banging his head on the floorboard. He doesn't need to witness  _that_ in addition to what he has already been subjected to. 

 

The days after are _**joyous**_ for Jeonghan. He's not much for playing cupids but he knows a love-struck gaze when he sees one and he does; whenever Minghao lies his pretty, wide eyes at Mingyu. It's fun to send knowing glances Mingyu's way whenever the two have the slightest interaction.

 

He feels like an insufferable fudanshi, in some ways.

 

Mingyu's private message on KakaoTalk is curt and definite.

 

**Don't tell Myungho.**

**I have no intention to.**

**Okay. I trust you.**

 

Jeonghan wants to ask _why,_ but he keeps that question to himself.

 

Later on, when his mother insists he takes Minghao from work because he hasn't come to visit for some time, Jeonghan decides that it's _Mingyu's_ mistake to trust him.

 

"It's pretty." Jeonghan comments on the two-piece suit hanging off a mannequin.

 

Minghao blushes, hand subconsciously coming out to straighten the little crooks.

 

"It's a congratulatory gift."

 

It's Mingyu's size and his culinary competition is in a few days. Jeonghan thinks it's an insult that Minghao doesn't expect him to connect the dots.

 

A smile on his lips and a pat on Minghao's back,

 

"I'm sure Mingyu will like it."

 

Seeing that flustered look on Minghao's face is entertaining and so is listening to his half-Korean, half-Chinese exasperated rambles, trying to cover the truth.

 

"It's mutual. You and him." Jeonghan says when they're in the car and Minghao hasn't stopped talking. It starts to annoy him.

 

Minghao doesn't say a thing the rest of the way home. 

* * *

 

Mingyu's success is expected and anticipated because the giant puppy gets into such a good mood that he cooks up a feast for the rest of the boys.

 

The food is tasty, Jeonghan talks to Cheol only and no one really bothers him. The boys give him gifts; socks, a mug, stationery, a cooking book, simple things that wouldn't cost them their whole allowance.

 

Behind them all, a young Chinese boy is fidgeting, a medium-sized wrapped gift behind him.

 

Minghao's eyes find him and Jeonghan sighs. He points upward, to the rooftop and Minghao blushes as red as a tomato.

 

"Go to the rooftop. Myungho is waiting."He whispers to Mingyu once the other kids are back to their food.

 

The culinary prodigy eyes him with surprise and Jeonghan sighs yet again.

 

"Just confess already, can you?"

 

Mingyu walks away without an answer but judging by the sappy smiles from the two he sees the next morning, Jeonghan can guess that he did.

 

It's good. It's tiring to play cupid, anyway.

* * *

"Hyung, come eat breakfast!" Someone shakes him awake. He opens his eyes to the backside of Chan, running out of his room.

 

The beds in front and on his left are empty and there are so much noise from the kitchen.

 

 ** _Too early_** … Jeonghan grumbles inwardly.

 

He pulls on a pair of sweatpants over his boxers and looks into the mirror, as always.

 

His eyes are brown, as always.

 

Okay.

 

The chairs are seated, except for the one at the end for Jeonghan. Cheol and Seokmin are on his either side and he pokes Cheol playfully, though he never does before. Cheol suddenly holds on his hand and he rubs his bleary eyes, meeting his gaze.

 

His heart drops.

 

 

**_Purple._ **

 

 

"Han, anything wrong?" Seungcheol purses his lips, thumb rubbing circles on Jeonghan's palm.

 

"Ouh, Jeonghan hyung?" someone calls.

 

He looks away from Seungcheol and suddenly, 12 pairs of eyes are staring at him.

 

 

_**All he can see is purple.** _

_**12 pairs of purple eyes.** _

 

 

"Why…" His breath hitches and without a word, his eyes water.

 

Tears fall, staining the table, and his whole existence trembles.

 

**_Why?_ **

 

"Jeonghan-ah." Jisoo's hand on his shoulder makes him jerk away. His hand is cold, too cold. Death can't have **_possibly_** taken him already, his heart drops.

 

Jeonghan runs from the dining room and locks himself in the bathroom.

 

He can't… Can't think.

 

It's not happening, this is not real… there's no way.... 

He takes another look on the mirror.

 

**_Purple_** **_._ **

 

Two violet orbs stare back at him; taunting him in his stupid innocence. 

 

 

_**Did you think destiny would be so kind?** _

 

 

A clenching fear starts to take over, robbing the strength of his two feet, making him fall to the tiled floor, hugging his knees in. It isn't time.

Not yet, just a year more...

No, a month!

A week, please, just…

Not yet. 

 

 

not yet. 

 

 

"No, please, no...I'm scared, please, please…"

No one listen to his begs. Even if it echoes off the bathroom walls and his tears are deteriorating his view. The deepest darkest secret he keeps to himself even in the coldest nights when that fear starts to subside him and drown him in helplessness. 

 

_**He doesn't want to die.** _

* * *

 


	9. Chapter 9

> "Jeonghan hyung.
> 
> Jeonghan hyung! 
> 
> JEONGHAN HYUNG!!" 

 

He jerks awake. 

 

 

A dream?

 

 

"Hyung, are you okay?" Jeonghan grabs on the hand that touches his arm. 

"Ow! Hyung!" Seokmin yelps. 

Jeonghan's stare makes him stay silent for a while. Goosebumps start to appear on Seokmin's arm even if the boy tries to act brave under his piercing gaze.

_Brown_. 

_Okay_. 

"Sorry." He lets go. 

"You look like you had a nightmare. Are you okay?" 

"Yes." 

He glances sideways, to the propped up mirror on his desk. 

His eyes are brown, as _**always**_. 

He repeats in his head, again and again, a charm to calm his heart. 

**_It's fine. Everything's fine._ **

The fear subsides slightly, still there, buzzing under his skin but Jeonghan does his best to ignore it. 

"Ouh, Jeonghan." Jisoo is the first to greet him once he steps into the bustling kitchen. 

He stares. Something seems different… Something seems wrong. And then he sees it. 

 

Jisoo's eyes. 

 

The boys get pushed away harshly though Jeonghan is indifferent. He pulls Jisoo's head closer until their faces are only a couple of inches apart and the foreign boy is blushing hard.

"Why are your eyes different? Is that, is it grey?"

Grey? He only ever sees purple, what does grey means? Is it actually a gradient? Is that it? It slowly turns the colour and then when it's purple, the person will die? 

"I'm, I'm wearing grey contact lenses." 

Contact lenses. 

**_Well, there's this thing called contact lenses that people wear so their eyes can have different colours._ **

The sudden flashback makes Jeonghan stumbles back, letting go of Jisoo. He's really losing his marbles. 

The dreams are triggering some kind of paranoia in him. 

"Hey, you're okay?" Someone's hand is at the small of his back, the warm voice of Seungcheol.

"I think I'll lay down a bit." 

He's guided into his room, drinking water from a glass someone pushed into his hand. 

"I've never seen you like that. Jeonghannie." 

 

 

It's Seungcheol. 

Warm, silent, caring Seungcheol. 

 

 

"I… I had a bad dream. I saw your eyes, they…" Jeonghan stops because he doesn't need to burden Seungcheol with his own psychotic troubles. The other man hums, Jeonghan can see the gears in his mind starts to work. 

"Purple? I hope they're not." A smile etched on his face. 

"They're not. Just in the dream." Seungcheol is on his knees, his two palms on Jeonghan's knees, rubbing in warmth by slow, circular motions. 

"Death is scary, isn't it?" The whisper makes him nod and then Cheol is reaching for his hands. 

"Not today, Han. We're safe today." His words distract Jeonghan from that buzz all over his nerves, let him focus instead on the corner of Seungcheol's lips tilted slightly upwards, the velvety touch of them against the back of his hands.

"Okay." A deep chuckle reverberates from Seungcheol's figure into his, connected through the small spots where they're touching each other. 

"Hug?" Seungcheol asks and Jeonghan laughs. 

He does, arms stretched over and clasping on Seungcheol's back. 

"We're safe today." 

_ But for how much longer?  _

* * *

Jeonghan has gone through a period of time when he thinks everything is so trivial. 

He sees people close to their deaths doing unnecessary things all the time. 

 

Throwing out trash, playing in PC rooms, drinking until they're too drunk to function, arguing, crying, lying to each other. 

 

He has gone through the phase of life is nothing but a passing of time. He spends all his seconds doing whatever he deems important. Reading, because why not, walking saved dogs from pet shelters, spending time with his mom and dad, praying to the gods he doesnt believe in, going on all the rides, eating everything he can afford at the convenience store. 

 

Things that he think he'll regret if he dies before he does them. 

Then, he waits, like an elderly man who has had enough of life, for death to come and greet him like an old friend. 

Except it does _**not**_ come. 

Because he has many days in front of him, days to be fulfilled with wholesome activities to feed beyond just his body but his soul, his heart. 

Today, that is chicken. 

"Chicken can heal your heart." Jisoo says beside him as he moves the box of Nene Chicken closer to him. 

Jeonghan smiles slightly. Jisoo has taken of his contact lenses. The whole house must have heard about his little meltdown in the morning, because everyone is on eggshells around him, even more than before. 

"Hyung, if you're free, come to my room." A whisper. 

A small boy in an oversized hoodie blushes when Jeonghan looks his way and Jihoon quickly escapes the suddenly noisy living room. 

"Hyung, want to come to my practice? I'll show you even cooler moves than that day!" Jun pipes up, making a show of his sidekicks. 

"Aihhh, why are you eating chicken? Hyung, what do you want to eat? I'll cook for you." Mingyu whines though his hand reaches for a piece. 

"Hyung, I need a model for my new shirt. Can you help?" Minghao comes out of his room, with measuring tape hanging off his neck. 

"There's this new movie out, come and see with us, hyung!!" BooSeokSoon shout, with excitement. 

"Hyung, can you help me with my homework?" Chan, with a cheeky, all teeth smile. 

"Hyung, don't you like this singer? He just released a new song, wanna hear?" Vernon, of all people, offers up one half of his earphones.  

Wonwoo doesn't say anything, he just holds out Neko, who is looking at Jeonghan with his pretty, wide blue eyes. 

Jeonghan's eyes waver, not knowing where to focus with so many voices asking him so many different requests. 

"Guys! Let him breathe, for God's sake." Seungcheol yells over the commotion but he is laughing a few seconds after. 

Beside him, Jeonghan is overwhelmed. He never had people who care before. No, actually, he never had people, period. No one ever come close to the bubble he keeps to himself. 

Seungcheol is the only one who gets to pierce that bubble, sometimes, when his guard is low or he needs someone, which is rare. 

He hasn't let them in, but in their own ways, in their own sense of friendship, these boys just rammed in, not even caring the consequences. 

"I…" Tears start rolling down his cheeks. 

Surprise shakes him to the sensation of warm teardrops and he wipes them away quickly. 

"I…" He's speechless as he tries to stop the flowing tears, as if someone has burst the dam and all the cries he keeps inside are seeping out. 

"It's fine, Han-ah. You have us, now." Strong arms come around Jeonghan, hugging him. 

He lays his head on Seungcheol's chest and then there are more arms around him, more bodies pressed against his sides and back. Voices murmuring whispers into his ears. 

**_It'll be okay._ **

**_Hyung, don't cry._ **

**_We're here._ **

He has his own people now, they who don't go away even if he tries to push them out. 

He wonders when does all this comes to play, like a little flick in a domino game, all the tiles just fell one by one. All these boys, connected to him by one precise, precious moment and all because he decides to be rebellious and live in a share house. 

These eyes that can see death, might be a curse.

But the luck that brings him here, to this exact moment in time, that's a miracle. 

* * *

 


	10. Chapter 10

Seungcheol finds it hard to not get disgusted by his own thoughts these days. 

Jeonghan is finally out of his shell, laughing and talking much more in a day than all those years before. 

The house is livelier and once in a while, a harmless,playful prank war will break out between different rooms. Most of the time, Jeonghan is the one who started it. 

He keeps on the same act at school, because it's a whole different story with people who are not them, but it's not strange anymore to catch him with a smile, or a question in lecture. 

And what does Seungcheol think about this miraculous development? 

 

 

_I'm not special to him anymore._

 

 

 

Like he said, **_disgusting_. **

 

He _should_ be happy of his best friend's personal development, the seams of his heart finally healing little by little, patching up on all the things he had been deprived of before. 

 

He _should_ , but he isn't. 

 

His heart does this strange, sharp _sting_ , as if there's a needle piercing into him; enlarging with every time it happens. _It_ can be Jeonghan's laughter suddenly ringing out from somewhere in the house, or his head on someone else's shoulder. A warm smile that isn't for Seungcheol's eyes or hands that reach out in assurance that they'll be accepted. 

Seungcheol doesn't _think_ he's jealous but there's a red-eyed monster sitting inside him, boosting his bad mood into a cloud of swirling storm. 

At some point, he'll have to get over his defiance. 

He'll let you into the secret; he doesn't know if he's jealous of Jeonghan, or all the other kids.

Another ~~secret~~.  

When he was a snotty, snobbish little boy, his mother gifted him a set of trains. Not small, plastic ones that do nothing and you have to 'use your imagination' but huge ones with rails and its tiny little own staff. 

He loved them, they grew out of favour after some time as he got bored but at that time boredom comes easily to him and the trains were one of the most luxurious gifts he had ever received. If there was a hall of fame of Choi Seungcheol's toys, his trains will be the one and only in it. 

And then, his little sister came along and destroyed the trains, like an uncivilised chimp trying to figure out her own way on using _hands_ . He remembered being filled with rage and yelling at his nanny for the trains to be fixed up. He got so mad indeed that he refused food for a few days and it wasn't until a completely new set of trains were up and running in his playroom that he finally **_looked_ ** at his food. 

He ate the food after he finished examining the train, wondered why he had insisted so much on fixing them, when all along it was already an old toy that he had gotten bored of. 

 

 

Discarded.

 

Thrown away.

 

Alone.

 

The plastic conductor man must've felt miserable as he watched Seungcheol play with the soldiers, the cars and the helicopter. Seungcheol thinks he understands the plastic conductor man now. 

He feels like he's been pushed out of the frame by Jeonghan. 

Funny, is life really _that_ full of karma?

* * *

'I have a question!!!! HYUNGG! Can I order more? Hehehehhe…' 

Seokmin's grin is met with a blank stare from the oldest man on the table and a fist hammering down on his head, courtesy of Jihoon. 

'Just go, there's no need to ask.' Shua thinks he catches Seokmin saying Soonyoung won't treat him that way but truthfully, he's too deep into their conversation to talk about it. 

'An _**intervention**_?' He repeats and Jeonghan nods his head, eyes staring down his cup of coke as if it is the Mona Lisa of paper cups. 

'You gotta admit his video games playing is spiralling out of control. He doesn't go to class on Thursdays anymore, right?'

Seungkwan nods. 

'His coursemate says he's cutting Wednesdays too, but he goes to PC rooms so we won't find out.'

Seungkwan nods. 

'I usually see him at home when I finish my 12 o'clock class on Fridays…'

Seungkwan nods. 

'Really, are you here just to nod?' the high-schooler sheepish smile doesn't cut him off Jihoon's deathly glare so he replies, 

'I'm just here for the food. Jeonghan hyung says he'll buy.' Accompany those words with a loud slurp of his Pepsi just for further emphasis. 

'Why did you bring him here again?' Jihoon's grumble goes unanswered but a glance to Jeonghan tells him that the awkward older guy is too deep into his thoughts to entertain his pessimism. 

'I don't think he'll take it nicely if we just… Confront him about this.' He pipes up out of a sudden. 

'He always has been so prideful. More than not admitting his wrongs, he just… doesn't want anyone to see his weakness.'

Joshua's words weigh down on him like bricks, that dull, steady thuds on the back of his head getting stronger than before. 

'Hey, hyung. How do I spell intervention?' 

'I-N-T-'

'Ouh, it's okay. Autocorrect got it.'

A moment or two passes before the question dawns on Joshua. 

' ** _Why_** did you asked?' Seokmin simply shrugs at Joshua's question and shows him his phone. 

'Seungcheol hyung wants to know.'

'Shit.' Jihoon's saucer wide eyes glanced in between Shua and Jeonghan, both of them turning pale at once. 

'We gotta go home.' Jeonghan nods to Shua’s suggestion and before they know it, they're all in Jeonghan's sedan, speeding through Saturday noon traffic to get home. 

'Stupid ass, why did you tell him?!' Jihoon plummets Seokmin with one of those small pillows Jeonghan has in his car and the younger boy's pitiful squeaks fill the air for a while. 

'I thought intervention is when you make new things…?' 

'What??? Hyung!!!! That's INNOVATION!!' 

And with Seungkwan's final words, the five of them fell into a silence more deadly than Jihoon's guitar. 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ummmm....  
> Comment down maybe...?  
> Please...?


	11. Chapter 11

Seungcheol sits on his bed for the last time. He has his bag on his back, and his luggage is already at his new place. Truthfully, the first thing he's sure to miss will be this room. 

Looking to his right, he can see Jeonghan's child-like face, calmly breathing in and out in his slumber. 

Looking to his left, he can see Joshua, with his Bluetooth speaker playing some lo-fi sound as he studies into ungodly hours of dawn. 

He'll miss Jeonghan's snark towards his fashion sense or Joshua's efforts to be a pacifist whenever they bicker like kindergarten kids.

He'll miss them  ** _so, so much._**

He sighs, resting his head sideways on the wall, waiting for those two figures to come. 

_ An intervention? _

Seungcheol chuckles. 

_ And here I was, already sick of trying to figure out a way out of my own mess.  _

Sure enough, not so long after, the bedroom door creaks open to two breathless boys, those brown eyes looking at him in concern. 

'You… going anywhere?' Joshua's the first to speak between the three and Seungcheol nods. 

'I got a job as an intern. My dad pulled some strings. I'm taking a semester off for this job. It starts today. Any advice?' The shocked looks that the two of them exchange with each other tickle him inside, but the air is too sombre for him to laugh out loud. 

'Break a leg?' Trust Jeonghan to say that with a scowl. 

'You'll do great, Cheol-ah.' At least Shua knows enough to hide away his confusion. 

'Sure. I think this can be a fresh start. Well, I don't want to be late on my first day…' 

Even though it's only 8 and he's supposed to report at 9.30. 

'So... see you guys later.' Seungcheol's claps on their backs sound awfully loud; because of the heavy silence they're under. 

'Ouh,' He stops in his track, biting his lip like a child with his candy taken away. 

'I'm moving out. So this is goodbye. Bye.' 

The moment those words finally register themselves in Jeonghan's mind and his feet swivel him around, Seungcheol is already gone, leaving his shape empty in his heart. His best friend of 3 years and the only one in his entire life who has been by his side restlessly…gone? 

Just like that.

* * *

 

'Hyung, breakfast is ready!' Jeonghan smiles at Soonyoung who pops his head into the bedroom, like a small excitable puppy. 

'Em. Let's eat together, Seungche-' His eyes land on the empty bed. 

_**Ah, right**_. 

Seungcheol is not here. 

The sudden pang as his heart plunges is pushed aside as he moves for the dining table. 

Pancakes are a **BIG** affair in Seven. Mostly because it's the _only_ thing that Seokmin can flip without using a spatula, but also because the boys can add whatever they want. Fruits, syrups, ice-cream… 

If Cheol is here, there would be a bottle of whipped cream on the dining table. Today, there's none. 

'Hyung, the agency Seungcheol hyung is working at is MM Entertainment, right?' Hansol's question jolts Jeonghan out from his daydream and he looks at the foreign boy on the other end of the table. 

'Yeah, why?' Hansol shrugs at Wonwoo's question and replies, 

'I borrowed his cap the other day and forgot to give it back. I was thinking of going there later today.' 

'I'll go!' Jeonghan shouts, to the surprise of the other boys. 

All of them stare at him, shocked that the soft-spoken college kid raised his voice, and Jeonghan puts on a warm smile. 

'I have something to give him too, so…' Shua is suspicious of him;even without glancing his way, Jeonghan already knows. 

But Hansol only nods and shrugs and a few moments later, there's a black snapback that doesn't belong to Jeonghan in his bag. 

'You just want to meet him, don't you?' 

'Because he keeps on saying he's busy when I text and he never picks up his phone.' Shua sighs at his response; disappointed of course, but Jeonghan pushes that aside. 

Maybe today, after 18 days of Seungcheol's goodbye, he'll **_finally_** get to say another hello.

* * *

 


	12. Chapter 12

MM Entertainment is surprisingly very dark in design. 

Not that Jeonghan knows much about the entertainment industry but his first impression of the building is _**not**_ as bubbly or refreshing as the idols under the name. 

 

Huh. 

 

He catches a glance of himself in the mirror. 

Minghao says they'll turn him away if he's dressed like always so here he is; in a velvet burgundy bomber jacket, white tee with a drawing of a naked man on the front and a pair of washed-out skinny jeans.

A pair of designer sunglasses ('borrowed' from his mother's boutique) protects his eyes from the glaring sun. 

The bodyguard at the front simply nods his head as Jeonghan comes close and that is when he understands Minghao's philosophy; _fashion is the armour to survive the reality of everyday life._

A bit dramatic for an 18 years old who is succeeding in his designer life. 

BBut still, his word should the truth. 

Even in a short moment, this outfit he puts on has placed him in a better standard in the eyes of the bodyguard.

A guest, instead of a trespasser.

'Hi, how can I help you?' The chirpy receptionist on the front desk does little to nothing for his fast beating heart but Jeonghan does manage a small smile. 

'I'm a... friend of Choi Seungcheol? He works here and… I have something urgent to give him.'

'Ouh? A friend of the intern? Heol, I thought you're a celebrity just now.' 

'Ah, no. I'm not in the industry.'

Her sigh seems to deflate her whole body a little as she says under her breath, 

'What a shame… Well, you can wait in the cafe. I'll tell him when he comes down to find you there.'

'Ummm, the thing is I… Lost his number, so if you can call him for me…' The receptionist's smile grows wider and she nods her head. 

'Of course. If you'll just wait over there…' She points again to the indoor cafe and Jeonghan bows curtly as he walks away. 

The cafe is minimal and simple; at least it isn't the pretentious kind that Jeonghan hates. 

A few staffs and familiar commercial faces accompany him as he takes a seat at the far back corner, trying his best to cover his face. He doesn't need anyone to talk behind his back about the lack of makeup on his face. 

Moments passed with almost nothing happening except for the continously failing flirting of the bartender with his coworker. He's actually feeling a little sympathetic for the clueless young boy. 

 

Jeonghan's legs lead him to the counter after a few minutes of pointless waiting. His eyes widen up at the word strawberry beside milk and he smiles to himself before opening his mouth to order. 

 

But at that moment, the door swings open and Jeonghan turns around. 

 

A pair of warm eyes stare at him and a soft smile comes up to those luscious lips. As if those same lips haven't said goodbye 18 days before and those legs didn't walked away from him and that  _something_ they shared. 

As if... As if, he has never left. 

Jeonghan hasn't realised how much he missed Seungcheol until that emotion clutches in his chest, choking off his breath, his fingers trembling as he fist them in. 

 

"Hey." 

 

Jeonghan wonders if Seungcheol knew how easy it is for him to cry, or if that moment, as tears trickle down his face, if that moment is the one that made him realise. 

 

"What, what's wrong?" His voice is still like honey, devastatingly sweet and sticky. 

 

Warm hands. 

 

Warm hands hold his shoulders, silently seeping his warmth into Jeonghan's heart until he doesn't realise how cold his life is without those hands. 

Glittering liquid eyes stare into his;scared, frantic, honest. Jeonghan doesn't need to look into a mirror to know those exact same emotions are reflected in his own. 

"I missed you." His voice falls and falters, like a baby's first steps but those hands slide down his shoulders and hold his wrists. 

 

"Me too, Hannie." 

 

_Hannie._

 

His ears tingle at that word they have been waiting to hear. 

Jeonghan wonders for the second time today, if Seungcheol knows how heartbreakingly beautiful his eyes are. Those eyes escape his gaze, looking around at the other customers; face blushing a little and a sheepish grin on his pinkish lips. 

 

"Let's get out of here?" Seungcheol's question is asking his permission and Jeonghan quietly agrees. 

His hand, holding on securely to the intern's wrist and not letting go, doesn't ask for permissions. Neither does Seungcheol cares to take his wrist off his hold. 

Jeonghan wishes this small moment, as their hands are clasped together and Seungcheol is leading him away; looking back with a cheeky smile, he wishes this moment to last forever, replaying over and over like a broken clock.

 

He thinks he can live with that.

 

He thinks he will like a life like that. 

* * *

 


	13. Chapter 13

A hill, with a shady tree at the top and a bench for two. It’s romantic and it’s where Seungcheol lead Jeonghan to. They pant, out of breath from the short jog out of the cafe towards this intimate place. Seungcheol’s hand feels heavy all of a sudden in his, as if it doesn’t belong there, even after all those times.

 

“...Sorry.” Jeonghan’s empty gaze on their clasped hands makes him recoil, and pulls back his hand slowly.

 

Jeonghan’s lips stay sealed, averting his eyes and pulling his wrist close to his chest. Seungcheol look away too, embarassment taking over now that the high of adrenaline has faded away. The sun is shining just right in the morning, soft and mellow, yet bright. He steals a glance to the beautiful man sitting on the bench. There are tear streaks marring his milky skin, but those soulful eyes, gazing away are still as mindlessly beautiful as they are hollow. Seungcheol might be just too into that person to see any flaw, but to be explicitly honest, he hasn’t seen one since the day their eyes first met.

 

“So, Han. Why did you come to see me?” 

 

_ Why did you cry? _

But is he such a fool to ask that question? 

No.

  
  


 

“I need to tell you something.” Jeonghan’s whole existence is shaking and he’s fiddling with his fingers, eyes never meeting his gaze.

 

Something is wrong, something is  _ definitely  _ wrong.

 

“Jeonghan, are you alright?” His hands are warm, as always, and they clasp around their shoulders, those insistent eyes looking deep into his soul to find anything resembling an answer from inside of him.

 

“I’m not. I’m not alright.” His voice trembles and cracks, the same little boy who cried when Seungcheol’s mom died and tried hopelessly to hide his sobs.

 

“Tell me. You know you can tell me anything, right?” Seungcheol’s voice is warm cocoa in winter when everything’s too cold and freezing outside his blanket and Jeonghan longs for those days again, instead of this snowy storm he feels going haywire in his system.

 

“You’re perfect. Perfect.” Jeonghan feels the ends of his fingers beginning to lose feel and there’s this sudden clarity in his heart as he stares into Seungcheol’s eyes.

 

He knows what he needs to do. He does.

 

“Perfect? What are you saying?” He’s too kind and he’s too honest. He’s just an excited little boy and Jeonghan is too blind to know everything that there is to see when it comes to him.

 

“You…are perfect for me.”

 

Those words ring in the air, like little wedding bells going off in his brain. The slightest smile comes up to Seungcheol’s lips even before those words finally register themselves in his mind and that might mean he’s buffering too much, but that doesn’t even matter anymore.

 

Because _**Yoon Jeonghan**_ thinks he’s perfect for him.

 

“You, you’re not kidding, right? Right??” 

Seungcheol is shaking his body in his eagerness and Jeonghan doesn’t have the heart to say it kind of hurts. He smiles wider and he nods his head. Tears are spilling out again but Cheol’s fingers are fast to swipe them away.

 

“I love you. I’ve always loved you, Yoon Jeonghan.” 

Seungcheol is kneeling before him, clasping their hands preciously together as he puts his forehead on his knee, small laughter forcing themselves out of him in disbelief.

“Em. I love you too.” Jeonghan wishes his voice doesn’t shake as much and his hands stop trembling so much but then he realises, Seungcheol’s hands are trembling too.

 

“I’ll take care of you. I’ll love you _sooooo_ much that you’ll get sick of me. I love you, really. Believe me, Yoon Jeonghan.” 

 

The intensity behind those eyes are so strong that it makes him choke up again, at the thought that a man of Choi Seungcheol’s standard is loving him and promises to love only him.

 

“I believe you, I do.” Jeonghan replies softly.

 

Seungcheol’s eyes bear the beautiful thoughts of future as he laughs giddily and molds his hands over Jeonghan’s in a perfect curve, more and more until their hands seem to be one structure; as if it would be wrong to pull away from this intricate, beautiful hold they have over one another.

 

“When should we have our first date? What should we do? Movies? Dinner? Lunch? Arcade date seems fun and it’s all the rage these days… ah, you don’t like places with lots of people…then, uhhh…should we go to Han River for a night stroll? How is that? Too cheesy? Yoon Jeonghan, say something.” 

He’s a kid all over again, tripping over himself in his excitement, holding Jeonghan’s hand as preciously as magnificient jewels.

 

“Anything. Anything would be just…perfect.” 

Jeonghan is flawed and jaded in many ways; ways that are not nostalgic or magical. He has too much of harsh days and sleepless nights to not be as lacking as he is now, but the man in front of him fills him with such simple joy and hope that there is no way for them to be anything than _**perfect**_.

 

His prince charming.

His half of heart.

 

Jeonghan wonders why it takes him too much time to figure everything out; why Seungcheol’s lightest touch makes him feel at ease, why his heart drums in worry whenever he doesn’t know where Seungcheol is, the reason behind his heavy heart and wicked thoughts after Seungcheol left and why he always,  _ always _ want to stay by his side.

 

They’re _**perfect**_ for each other.

 

It would’ve been perfect, with the way the sun is making his hair looks golden and the fact that today is exactly 7 years since the day they first met. 

The wind is blowing softly and there’s that beautiful scent of spring days in the air. 

Seungcheol is blabbing adorably about their first date, and Jeonghan lets out a small laughter at that beautiful thought. 

Seungcheol’s hand fits perfectly in his, and Jeonghan stares into those wide, liquid eyes. 

His breath trembles, his hand curling stronger around Seungcheol’s.

 

It would’ve been perfect if those eyes staring back at him are not

 

 

purple.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super late. I know sorry, comments down below plisss


	14. Chapter 14

* * *

 

 

"You."

 

He's confused, showing it with his brow, pursed lips and a little 'hmm?' slipping out his mouth. 

His own grin, a sad and twisted smile that comes from nowhere near his heart, becomes wider and his mouth parts again to say those words, 

 

"The only one that matters today is you." 

Those eyes widen in delight and he is blessed with a quick, soft kiss to the back of his hand. 

 

He's just so… beautiful. 

 

At this point, Jeonghan knows that the heavens are cruel;  _ especially  _ to him. Perhaps he has burned down an entire country in his past life to get so much misery in this one. 

He was born with a curse, his normal childhood and adolescence were robbed from him. It only makes sense that something precious is robbed away **_again_** from him just at the moment he has had a taste of real, simple happiness. 

 

The universe doesn't **want** him to be happy. 

 

He should've known. 

 

But Seungcheol is  **_too_ ** precious to be stolen away like this. He's already half of his life, and every moment in his memory has Seungcheol ingrained in them. 

He can't remember laughing without Seungcheol's hand grabbing him, or his warm gaze from across the room. 

Can't remember funny conversations that weren't shared with the person in front of him right now. 

 

He just  _ can't.  _

 

Seungcheol has always been the exception. 

_ Speak to no one. **Except** Seungcheol.  _

_ Be close to no one. **Except** Seungcheol.  _

_ Greet no one. **Except** Seungcheol.  _

_ Never show your weakness.  _

_**Except** in front of Seungcheol.  _

 

He's thinking all of this, replaying the most important moments of his life in which none is without him, and their hands held together feel too heavy for him. 

 

"Cheol."

 

"Why?" His eyes flit to him and away in a second as something else catches his attention. 

"Ouh? Flowers? Jeonghan, wait a moment!" Suddenly, he's gone with the wind, his leg muscles flexing as he runs towards an old woman with a basket of assorted flowers. 

 

Jeonghan feels a sharp pain on his chest suddenly, as if someone has pierced a sword through him and he runs as fast as he can, close to Seungcheol again.

 

_ Dont leave him out of your sight.  _

_ Don't.  _

_ Don't leave him.  _

 

Jeonghan pants as he stops in front of the old lady and his lover. They are laughing at something funny he hasn't managed to catch just then, but the glisten in Cheol's eyes leaves no mystery that they were definitely talking about him. 

 

The old lady is well, _old._ She seems to shake with every breath she inhales and is so skinny that Jeonghan might only have to blow for her to fall off her feet.Her eyes are sharp and clear, ageless compared to the rest of her features.

Jeonghan gives her a small, respectful bow and the warm smile she had on changes into something colder. Sadder. Her hand placed on his shoulder is heavy, as well as the gaze she has on him. 

 

"A child of the heavens." She smiles with radiating warmth like a grandma to her favourite grandson. Yet she scares him, the same exact way his curse does. 

 

That same tingling, buzzing **_fear_** underneath his skin. 

 

"Ouh? How did you know?! Jeonghan is born on 4th of October. He's an angel, our angel Han." Seungcheol laughs and links their arms together. 

 

Jeonghan is sure the intimacy of their skinship is not lost to the older woman but she simply smiles and pulls back her hand from his shoulder. Jeonghan feels as if the weight of the world is lifted off the moment that hand is no longe pressing down on him. 

 

"For an angel, a flower." She picks out a random flower from her basket and hands it to Jeonghan. 

 

It's a beautiful flower, with its star-like clutters; white with a tinge of very pale yellow, sprouting from its short and very green stalk.

 

"It's...pretty. How much is it?" 

Their fingers touch slightly as he takes the flower from the old lady and her hand is cold; coldness that doesn't match spring, unless the old lady actually just comes out from a freezer or something. 

 

_Weird_. 

 

"It's okay. You're already paying for it, after all." Her eyes are suddenly sharp and cold again, bearing a smirk to Jeonghan before it changes swiftly into a carefree laugh.

"Where else can this old lady talk to such good-looking men? Hahahahhahah, you've already made my whole day today."

 

Jeonghan lifts an eyebrow to that. Not only are her words so… peculiar, even her laughter seems staged and condescending.

"Still, halmeoni, we can't just take it without paying. Tell you what, I'll take two red roses for… 10,000 won? Okay?" The granny laughs and nods her head. 

 

"Sure, I have to make your wish comes true, at least." 

 

At least? 

**_At least?_ **

 

What does she means by _that_? 

 

"Anyway, I won't want to disturb you. Time is precious after all." 

 

"Ayy, halmeoni, I'm sure you have lots of time to talk with us some more." A part of Jeonghan tries to mentally plead with Seungcheol to  _ not  _ do that, spreading his happiness around. 

Something about that granny creeps him out and he can literally see death, so that is saying something coming from him. 

 

"Time? I may do… But…"

 

Her stare towards Jeonghan might as well be words, words so painfully clear that it is a _**fucking must**_ that they have to get away from the granny. 

 

Her eyes saying, 

 

 ' _ I'm not so sure about you.' _

 

It makes his skin **crawl**. 

 

Her eyes flit down to his hand. 

 

The flower on his palm suddenly seems as if it is… 

 

 

 

purple.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I just end two chapters with the same wording? Yes. But did I update it quickly? Yassssss😊😊😊😊


	15. Chapter 15

* * *

 

 

“Han-ah, wanna know something weird?? Today…the flowers look prettier than yesterday.” Seungcheol laughs, linking their pinkies together as they walk back towards his company.

 

Jeonghan’s clenched fist digs the bloody red roses’ thorns into his skin, and his eyes flutter as the pain stings sharply. The dull ache on his chest is much more painful but he gets distracted there for a second, wondering if the sharp points have broken the skin of his palm. Jeonghan wouldn’t have cared at all.

 

“Han-ah?” Jeonghan nods, absent-mindedly slapping a grin on his face.

 

He hasn’t been this _fake_  since middle school, when a girl confessed to him and he has to say he has some other **_girl_** that he likes;when in all honesty, the girl’s older brother’s short pants were far too distracting for him to even remember her face.

 

Pink and white cherry blossoms flutter softly to the ground, as if they’re some shoujo manga characters having a full-page confession scene right in the middle of Seoul. The trees lining up on either side of the sidewalk are pretty indeed, but it seems somewhat condescending.

 

 It makes Jeonghan sick to the stomach; that the day is so innocently beautiful when it’s set to be one of the worst days of his life.

 

“What’s with that face~? Flowers, you don’t like it?” Seungcheol is pouting and Jeonghan stares at him for a while before he looks away, a self-deprecating chuckle bubbling up his throat. 

 

Did it show? How heavy his heart is to let him go?

 

“No, it’s not like that. Just…I want to be with you. If only for today. ” It dawns on him, suddenly, putting a lump in his throat and a pressing pain on his chest.

 

Ah, he realises.

 

It will only be today, the time that they have for each other.

 

Seungcheol laughs and stops them on their track.

 

“Can’t do, Han. Sorry. Comeback for one of the groups is coming up next week, so everyone’s busy. I’m already pushing my luck here by skipping for an hour. How are the weekends? I’ll spend my whole weekend with you. Em?”

 

“Too long.” His lips are pressed together; a trickle of blood is escaping from his palm.

 

“I can’t hear you if you’re mumbling, Hannie-ah.”

 

“It’s too long until the weekend.”

 

“What do you mean it’s too long? It’s only two days more?”

 

They’re staring at him. Those dark orbs, so frustratingly beautiful. So…taunting.

 

__The boy you love so much is going to die any moment now. What can you do about it?__

__

The blood trickles from his palm to the ground. He hides it behind his back, hoping Seungcheol’s sharp vision doesn’t catch on. Those heavy eyes of him are focusing at Jeonghan only and he should really do or say something before his brain short-circuits and something stupid comes blurting out.

__

He can’t do anything. He just stares back at them, even if the flowers that have only begun to bud in his heart, wilt away.

 

It’s painful to look at them for too long but Jeonghan does, because as much as this is torture, this is Seungcheol. That damned colour over his deep coffee-brown eyes is stealing strength of his two feet but this is the last time he’ll see him smile like that.

 

 _ **Last time**_.

 

He needs this. And yes, Jeonghan is selfish, has **_always_** been selfish. He’s selfish enough to keep pretending not to know about Cheol’s feelings towards him until the very last moment. Selfish enough to hide the truth from the man he loves the most just because he wants him to keep smiling like that, beautifully, innocently, heartbreakingly…clueless.

 

Is that too much?

 

Is wishing for him to smile until his last breath instead of shaking in fear, **_too much_**?

 

“Why’re you staring at me like that? Is there something on my face? Do I look different? Do I-”

 

He stops and something clicks. 

 

Jeonghan sees the moment the dots connect in his brain. He sees the excitement fades away from his grin and it turns into a straight line as fear starts to envelop him. His shoulders fall and his eyes tremble.

 

“My eyes…are they different?”

 

His voice is lower than when they’re telling secrets in the dark of the night or when there’s lust in his eyes as he sees Jeonghan topless. It’s broken and whimpering in fear, and Jeonghan made him like that. __**Jeonghan**. _He’s_ the reason Seungcheol is bowing his head, his nails digging into his own hands.

 

He might as well be the Grim Reaper himself, burying that deep fear of death in his lover, a cruelty reserved only for those who are foolish enough to fall for him. But not today. Not now, when everything in him is breaking apart. He just needs __him__ to be okay. Is that __really, really,__ too much?

 

“No.Your eyes…They’re not...that. Just…I just want to be with you.”

 

He’s clutching on Seungcheol’s hands, a wide grin on his face as he forces the other man to look at him, just **__look__** at him.

 

It doesn’t matter that his grin is way too big for his face.

 

Or that he has never smiled like that.

 

Or that he’s trying to sketch out Seungcheol’s reaction through his tears.

 

“Yoon Jeongha-”

 

Jeonghan lurches himself into Seungcheol’s arms, putting his hands on his cheeks as he goes for a kiss, letting his shaky breaths warm the lips of the other man. Seungcheol pulls his waist, and kisses him back.

 

Desperate, even when he doesn’t want it to be. Their kiss is so desperate for each other, like lovers separated by the sea for years and years, just wishing for one more kiss.

 

“They’re not. I said, they’re not. Just trust me.”

 

Jeonghan should’ve looked him in the eyes, and maybe it wouldn’t look too much like a lie. He shpuld have controlled his voice better so it doesn’t tremble that much. He shouldn’t have buried his face in Seungcheol’s chest and uses him to stifle his own sobs. He shouldn’t have let those eyes get to him too much that big, fat tears are pouring down his cheeks.

 

But it’s too much. It has **__always__** been too much.

 

Then Seungcheol’s finger are wiping off his tears, and tilting his head up to look at him. His eyes look like they’re his again, and there’s a gentle smile on his face. One laced with shaking, trembling fear of course, but it doesn’t matter just then.

 

“I trust you. I do. Hey, Yoon Jeonghan. I. Trust. You.”

 

The kiss that Seungcheol presses on his forehead for a singular, shining moment is warm and soft; leaving Jeonghan wondering if he’ll ever know the reason why Seungcheol let him lie to him.

 

Or maybe Seungcheol already knows the truth; that the person who’s desperately wanting to believe that lie more than himself, is Jeonghan.

 

“Forget about work. Life is short, anyways. I want to be with you. Only you.”

 

Now Seungcheol is lying to him too, with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

 

“Let’s go home. Seven.” Jeonghan is trying his best to smile through his tears as well, if only to entertain the thought that everything will be okay, and that Seungcheol isn’t going to die before they come back home, he hopes.

 

“Okay.”

 

* * *

 

 

“You really haven’t change a thing here, huh.” Jeonghan is sending prayers to the deities cruel enough to bestow upon him this torture, for at least giving them time to come back here. To the place where they fall in love, and out of sheer stubbornness( __of Jeonghan)__ , where they are back where they belong. Next to each other.

 

“Because this guy throws such a tantrum whenever anyone even touches your place.” The soft, silky smooth voice of Joshua pierces through the room and Jeonghan jumps in surprise. Those almond brown eyes fall to their linked hands and his eyebrows shoot up instantly.

 

“God, finally. Took you two long enough.” Joshua is grinning, Jeonghan sees when he looks up and for a second, it feels fine. Fine to pretend that they’re back to their comfortable triangle again, back to the safe space of the college kids’ room, back where they’re the shoulders the young ones depend on.

 

Until Seungcheol flashes him a grin and that colour dampens any little sliver of happiness ever hoped to reach his soul.

 

“Shua-ah, we-”

 

“Don’t worry. I know. The other kids are coming back in a few hours though, so don’t…get carried away, okay?” Joshua winks, and it’s awkward for a moment, for the resident church-goer to throw sexual innuendos at an unprepared Jeonghan.

 

“We, uh…”

 

“Shhhhh….young Cheol, hyung knows it all. No need to explain.” Shua has that know-it-all expression on his face and it’s funny because he almost fainted when Jeonghan bought some condoms and told him it was for Mingyu.

 

(He probably shouldn’t have said that last part but it’s __fun__. Shua couldn’t look at Mingyu and Minghao on the eye for about a week after.)

 

Jeonghan isn’t thinking about how funny Shua looks though, even if Cheol’s hearty laughter blossoms in the small space. He’s thinking if Shua should know. That he’s lying, and what the lie is about.

 

“I’ll leave you guys alone. And also…it’s nice to see you again. Don’t run off on us anymore. The kids are really too much to handle for us two. Okay? Promise.” Shua offers his hand to shake, like the **__gentleman__** he is and Seungcheol’s flitting eyes tell Jeonghan that he knows he can’t keep that promise but he shakes on it anyway.

 

“Sure.”

 

Jeonghan’s voice is stuck on his throat and any word that forms in his mind becomes cluttered and muddled. He can’t utter a single word; even as he watches a third of their trio leaves the room with light steps and a sweet humming melody.

 

“So what should we do?”

 

Jeonghan shakes off his intruding thoughts and turns to his lover. Seungcheol is looking at him with a melancholic smile and Jeonghan tries his best not to let his grief seeps out of his deepest, innermost heart.

 

“Anything you want.”

 

…turns out to be a home-cooked meal with whatever ingredients that are in their fridge. Seungcheol cooks him spagbol with a side of cheesy fries. Jeonghan fries some hashbrowns and pours them both beer. They don’t let go of their constant touch, always reaching out for the other after a second or two. They can’t risk it. They need this to last forever. Or at least Jeonghan needs to.

 

And then, they move to their bed, where they share kisses under the blanket and soft, cautious touches that pull away like skin to burning fire. Touching Seungcheol **__is__** burning fire, Jeonghan thinks. He can’t **_think_** , his whole self just heats up until he feels like a fucking inferno. Seungcheol is that too. If the deep flush on his face and his raggedy breaths are any proof, of course.

 

As they lie down, pliant and satisfied, Jeonghan reaches over to smooth his hair down and Seungcheol catches his hand, kissing each knuckle softly as if he hasn’t ravaged every inch of his lover’s skin just moments ago. They share secrets and sweet words and wishful thinkings that they’ll have tomorrow. It’s mostly Seungcheol’s and Jeonghan thinks he’s trying to proof that he’s playing along to Jeonghan’s lies. Jeonghan lets him, even if it leaves a sickeningly vile taste to his mouth.

 

Seungcheol wants a house on a hill, someday. So his kids can roll on the grass and feel the breeze of the wind against their faces.

 

Seungcheol wants to be able to see talent and take them under his wing. To make sure that they say what they want to say and sing what they want to sing.

 

Seungcheol wants to feel how it is to be a dad. To have a child clings on your chest with eyes identical to yours truly. 

 

Seungcheol wants a first date, and second and fifty-seventh with Jeonghan. Because he’s the only person that matters and when his eyes are on him, nothing else really comes to light.

 

Seungcheol forces Jeonghan to wear his fancy dinner suit, and he places the white flower and the red rose on their buttonholes. They look like best men rather than grooms but it doesn’t matter because Seungcheol wants them to look that way.

 

At one point, Seungcheol says he’ll give Jeonghan the sun **_when_** he wakes up the next morning and Jeonghan forgets for a moment and says, it’s impossible, the sun is too large. Seungcheol kisses his forehead and says, in the softest little whisper, “I’ll try my best.”

 

Seungcheol lets Jeonghan cry more in his arms, because that feeling of dread comes crashing again and Jeonghan doesn’t know what else to do.

 

They have dinner together with the boys and the boys are loud and happy; Jeonghan is sniffling and quiet. Seungcheol keeps his hand in Jeonghan, the other ruffling Chan’s head in a slow, regretful manner.

 

Joshua offers to bunk with the youngsters because they are getting too rowdy and Seungcheol makes this whole ordeal of making them say goodnight to him before they all go on with their own business.

 

Jihoon mutters under his breath, "It feels like you’re leaving again." and Jeonghan stops breathing for a second. Then, the moment passes and Seungcheol flicks on the younger’s forehead.

 

“You just take care of yourself. Work as hard as you want, but make sure you take your meals properly. Understand?”

 

“Ahjussi, I know already. Go sleep.” Jihoon mumbles, walking away with slumped steps.

 

“Hey, I’m serious. Understand?” Seungcheol’s voice turns stern and his gaze heavy with tension. Jihoon hasn’t seen this part of him much and it puts a seed of fear in him as well as the warmth of knowing someone else really cares about him.

 

“Yes, I’ll make sure of that. Good night.”

 

Seungcheol seems too happy with himself for that half-sincere comment he gets from Jihoon but Jeonghan lets him because only they know what the goodnights **_really_** mean, what they’re really for. The kids don’t need to know and Jeonghan doesn’t have the strength to tell them. Not when he doesn’t have the strength to believe it himself.

 

Joshua skips out of sharing a room with the new couple with a wink and some annoying expressions that Jeonghan wishes to slap off his face but he doesn’t. Joshua leaves with his face _unslapped_ and Jeonghan’s poker face doesn’t crack.

 

It’s 11. Jeonghan is hugging Seungcheol tightly in bed and he is stroking his head.

 

“Sleep.”

 

“No.”

 

“Yoon Jeonghan.”

 

“I just want to be with you.”

 

“You are, like this.” He laces their fingers together.

 

“I lied.” The words are tumbling out without his permission but words bounce off the walls when it's this quiet and they latch on the people who shouldn't hear them.

 

“No.” Jeonghan turns to him, his eyes already specking with tears.

 

“Your words…are your truth. I believe you, so they’re my truth too.”

 

“The world’s truth is different than ours.”

 

“But you are my world? My everything, my love, my life.”

 

Jeonghan should really be mad that Seungcheol even **__think__** he’ll be moved by such cheesy, overused statements. He should but he can’t because he knows it’s the truth. Seungcheol's words are blinding truth that says a big ‘ **fuck you** ’ to the world and the deities if they think he’ll ever let his lover cry, when he’s still capable of wiping off his tears.

 

“Sleep. I’ll make you smile in the morning. Promise.”

 

It’s a promise he can’t keep and they both know it.

 

It’s drumming heartbeats and unsure glances, hands that shake as their pinkies link together, words not said from tied tongues.

 

“I’ll kill you if you don’t keep this promise.”

 

Seungcheol’s laugh is rhythmic chains of molecules vibrating in the air as if the angels themselves composed the melody and it’s the sound of the heavens; not a laughter of a man.

 

Jeonghan lies his head on Seungcheol’s chest and he doesn’t let the other know that __he__ knows Seungcheol laced his drink with sleeping pill. He simply sheds his tears for it, falling into a dreamless sleep with arms hugging his lover desperately. If he can cling on to his soul, Jeonghan would have.

 

But he can’t.

 

So he prays to the deities that he loathe; promising them everything that he has to offer; everything that they can __take__ , if only for one day, one more day with a man of name Choi Seungcheol.

 

Just one more day, so Seungcheol can keep his promise.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that was a long one, isn't it?  
> comments and kudos make my day so tell me what you think of this!!
> 
> also is this length okay? i've been thinking about it and the last two chapters seem too short that everything seems chopped up. is that just me?


	16. Chapter 16

The sun is far too strong and bright to be warm on his cheeks and Jeonghan groans. His face is covered by hands that come up automatically and his eyes, squinting, peeks at the bright, screaming sun from between his fingers.

 

Is the sun that _**happy**_  to see him?

 

“Cheol, I-”

 

The space beside him is empty, void of any life.

 

“Cheol. Cheol-ah. Choi Seungcheol…where are you? Seungcheol-ah! Choi Seungcheol!!” His feet move faster than his mind, and he’s running, running in his pyjamas down the stairs to the front door and out.

 

Right.

Convenience store.

Left.

Park.

 

 

Left.

He swerves a sharp left and runs again, faster and faster, even when his legs are screaming for mercy. He doesn’t have that in him, not even to himself. His eyes get blurry as he swings his legs front and back, adrenaline rushing up from his brain to his muscles the sole reason why he hasn’t topple down and fall face-first to the ground.

 

He cannot lose him.

 ** _He cannot_**.

 

His eyes roam wildly once he’s in the park and in a moment, he spots that mop of brown hair and that stoic figure, swinging lightly on the swings. He runs again and his voice is shaking as he reaches out a trembling hand on Seungcheol’s shoulder.

 

"Hey." 

 

“Yes? Why?” His eyes shake as he stares at that face. It’s different. He’s not Seungcheol and again, his heart drops to his feet.

 

“It’s…nothing. I’m sorry.” Jeonghan turns away before the stranger can get more freaked out when tears start flowing down his eyes.

 

“Yoon Jeonghan.” He looks up and a devilishly handsome man is staring back at him, the cap pushed down on his head obscuring Jeonghan’s view to his eyes but he already knows, they’re purple and they’re counting seconds.

 

“Why did you leave?! You promised me! You promised me, you crazy jerk!”

Jeonghan punches him on the chest and Seungcheol gets pushed away a little, scowling in pain.

 

“I’m afraid…don’t go. Don’t go anywhere. Just…just stay by my side.”  ** _Please._**

 

Small sniffles escapes from his hands pressed to his face and he wishes he’s stronger than this. He wishes for Seungcheol’s final images of him are of the old Jeonghan, _the cold and aloof one_ , the one he fell in love with.

 

He’s just too **weak** to even do that.

 

“Sorry. It’s my fault. So don’t cry anymore. When you cry, I’m sad too.” He pulls Jeonghan into his warm embrace, the black turtleneck shirt of his being Jeonghan’s target to wipe off his tears.

 

“Don’t leave me. Please.” Seungcheol flinches at his request, that sinking feeling of fear that’s becoming eerily comfortable by now, going even further down, as if it wants to drag him to the lowest of Hell.

 

“Sorry.” He can only say that now, no more giving his lover promises that he can’t keep.

 

“Why are you apologising? Just say yes like you usually do. Just promise me that.  Yah, Choi Seungcheol, why are you changing??? Why sorry???” Jeonghan’s glazed eyes are angry as they stare up at him and Seungcheol takes a deep, stuttering breath.

> “Because I don’t want to lie to you. No matter how much I want to.”
> 
>  

It's evil of Seungcheol to say that, and then looks at him as if he's the most precious jewel in the world. 

Jeonghan closes his eyes and grips his fists tighter. 

 

It’s beautiful spring when Jeonghan sees his tears for the first time.

It’s under a shady oak tree that Jeonghan reaches out and wipes off those tears with his own fingers.

It’s with the sun halfway up the sky that Jeonghan hugs him, for the first time those broad, strong shoulders seem shrivelled and weak.

 

Wet lips meet shaking ones, partly opened, just lingering there, feeling each other’s warm, unsteady breaths. Seungcheol’s hands are cold as they come up to his face and he winces slightly at the strong hold.

 

“You’re the love of my life. My first…and my last."

 

He pauses, rubs a thumb across his lower lip. 

 

“But I can’t be your last. Be happy. Please, for me.”

 

Jeonghan can’t say that he doesn’t know how to be happy without him, no matter how much he wants to.

He can’t tell him that everything, every little or big thing will remind him of them, and what they could’ve been.

He can’t utter the words that no one will ever be able to stand in his shadows, or even come close to.

 

So he stays speechless and Seungcheol knows what  his refusal to speak means, just like he knows everything that there is to know about him.

 

“At least _**try**_ , for me.” Jeonghan’s lips tremble and he sighs, looking away.

 

It’s cruel of Seungcheol to say that to him; to force him like that into pushing himself to something that can _**never**_ be true. It’s evil but Jeonghan loves him, in all his kindness and cruelty.

 

Perhaps love is like that.

Both cruel and beautiful,

Both happy and painful.

Or maybe it’s just them,

Maybe it’s just him.

 

Their walk home is filled with somber, cold silence, no matter how warm Seungcheol’s hand is in Jeonghan’s vice-like grip. His gaze is flitting around, never really settling on one place, because maybe, __just maybe__ , he’ll be able to save Seungcheol from death.

 

If only death has a _**face**_.

 

“Yah, Jeonghan. Let’s cross over here. I want some ice-cream.” Seungcheol's grin is as bright as the sun peeking out from behind his shoulders and for a moment, Jeonghan truly feels blessed.

 

_Out of seven billion people, I found you._

_Out of seven billion people, you're it for me._

_Out of seven billion people…_

_Why are you the one leaving me now?_

Jeonghan sees it, the moment his legs step on the sidewalk across and his hand isn't attached anymore to the warm skin of his lover's palm. He feels it in his bones, that __pain__ shooting from his feet; he's frozen to the ground and his head is ringing alarms.

 

 __It_ _ **_**_hurts._ ** _ **

 

There are cries of a little kid, screams from a passing woman and strings of curses from a panicked old man.

 

And there he is, the love of his life, lying in a pool of blood with that __damned__ grin on his face.

 

He should've known better than to cross the road.

 

"Choi Seungcheol. You promised me. You promised me, right? Not now. You can't go now. Please, please… Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease…....."

 

He's a **madman** , kneeling in the middle of the road, his bloodied hands cradling his lover's face. He's __crazy__  and he can see Seungcheol knowing that too.

 

" I was happy. Thank you. " That damn smile is widening for a sliver of a second. His hand is reaching up to wipe Jeonghan's tears off and he clutches on that hand swiftly.

 

" What are you saying? Cheol-ah. Cheol. YAHH CHOI SEUNGCHEOL!! CHOI SEUNG-"

 

The twinkle in his eyes blink off, like a little firefly dried out of life and Jeonghan screams. He screams and he cries and he begs to the deities above for something, just __anything__  to be taken from him so that this _pain_ will go away. He screams until his throat is hoarse and he cries until he can't see through his tears anymore. He tightens his grip around Seungcheol and feels his warmth slowly seeps away.

 

"Why? WHY?? Why him? WHY HIM????" Jeonghan asks anyone who tries to pry him off his dead body and no one seems to have the answer. No one seems to know and that's not fair, because he knows he deserves to at least, at least learn why, __why__  the one person who loves him, truly loves him, is leaving him all alone.

 

Jeonghan doesn't know why, not until after.

 

"Hyung, you knew, right?! You knew he was going and you-How can you do this to me? To us?! HOW CAN YOU DO THIS, YOON JEONGHAN???"

 

It's Chan's hands pulling down his shirt neck. It's Chan's tears that roll down his cheeks right before Jeonghan's eyes. It's __Chan,__  who he has teased and showered with too much affection.

 

“Chan-ah.”

 

Something must’ve seeped through. Something must’ve cracked his poker face and shown Chan what he shouldn’t see.

 

“It’s true? Hyung, you already know he was going to…to…” He’s struttering and walking away from Jeonghan. Chan breaks away from his measly hold and his fist punches the wall, the trail of blood dripping down from where his fist meets the solid brick vividly red against the pristine white of the living room.

 

The others rush in after a while, each of them with a painting of shock and disbelief on their faces.

 

“His parents are holding the funeral tomorrow.” Jihoon speaks up.

 

No one says a word. The simple fact hangs in the air like a pending death sentence to each and every one of them.

 

“So, hyung, how? I need to tell my teacher I’ll skip school tomorrow.” Seokmin is expressing fear through his very cells, those hopeful doe eyes looking up at him and those hands clasped in front of his chest, like a prayer.

 

Twelve pairs of eyes turn to him instantly, and the dread he has been waiting for finally arrived.

 

He feels like a merman in a fishbowl, so hopelessly suffocated with all these expectations that they hold against him, when he isn’t so sure if he wants to be here anymore, with or without them.

 

Thankfully, Chan comes to his help. Or rather, his dismissal.

 

“Don’t bother Jeonghan hyung. Since he can’t be bothered to tell us about Seungcheol hyung, after all.”

 

The death sentence finally thuds and it’s Jeonghan’s head in the basket.

 

“What are you saying, Chan??” Seungkwan is genuinely confused, so __innocently__  naive that Jeonghan just has to turn away and try to hide his trembling breath.

 

“So you saw his eyes change?” Wonwoo lets go of Neko slowly, and the cat meows as it rubs its face on his leg. The cat owner’s eyes are much sharper than the pet, as if they’re condemning him for his biggest sin.

 

“No. You would’ve tell us, right, Jeonghan-ah? You would’ve at least, told **_**_me,_**_** right? Right??” Joshua’s voice is tense and so is his expression, those eyes pleading for him to just say yes.

 

But he can’t lie. And he doesn’t think he wants to.

 

“Hyung…go.” It’s Jihoon.

 

 ** _Jihoon_**.

 

Jihoon with his mellow, disappointed eyes looking down at him. Jihoon whose fists are clenched and shaking by his side.

 

“Now.” He says through gritted teeth and Jeonghan wills himself to actually meet the younger’s eyes.

 

He can’t.

 

There’s pure hatred in those eyes directed to him and Jeonghan knows that it’s true; for that’s how his eyes look like when anyone speak of deities.

 

“If you don’t go, I’m leaving.” Mingyu mutters below his breath, walking with huge strides towards the door and slamming it open and shut in a matter of seconds.

 

The air is quiet and heavy again, with everyone looking at Shua for guidance.

 

“How can you do this to us? To me? To Cheol?? We tried so hard to be your friends, no, your family! And you do this to us…I didn’t get to say goodbye to him. He’s your lover, but he’s my friend too. He’s a part of this family…and you just stole him from us.” Joshua walks past him. The air that brushes his cheek from that motion feels cold to his bones.

 

The others follow him out, each without a spare of glance to the hunched figure with silent tears rolling down his face on the sofa.

 

**_**_This is better._ ** _ **

**_**_Let them go._ ** _ **

**_**_So they can be more._ ** _ **

**_**_More than just painful memories._ ** _ **

**_**_Or the deities’ toys to play with me._ ** _ **

**_**** _ **

**_**_Let them hate me._ ** _ **

**_**_The way I do._ ** _ **

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and comments are very much welcomed!!!!!


	17. Chapter 17

* * *

 

People have always said that he is emotionless. Kids used to whisper when he passed by, the words ‘ _cold_ ’ and ‘ _blank_ ’ coming up every few seconds. He didn’t mind that.

To be exactly honest, he didn’t mind anything at that time. Everything felt so **_foolishly_** futile that his only thought all throughout his school days were to not attach himself to anyone.

 

But then there was…Seungcheol.

 

His memory of their first encounter is still, as clear as crystal, the moment that brings him to his knees this very moment.

 

__“Wahhh, you’re really a loaded little asshole, huh?” Junjae couldn’t be a bigger fool is he thinks he can bully Jeonghan that easily, when this ‘loaded little asshole’ was more than capable to beat the crap out of him._ _

__

__“Still better than you, asshole.” Jeonghan spits out, his hands clenching tightly around the ones that are pulling his neck down._ _

__

__“WHAT DID YOU SAY, MOTHERFUCKER?!!” His yelling attracted others and then he was flinging Jeonghan towards the glass window looking into the hallway._ _

__

__Prang!!!_ _

__

__Jeonghan flinched as one of the shattered glass shards cut into his shoulder. His expression triggered some glee in the bully, and Junjae started laughing, even if the kids were starting to gather around them, talking and whispering in urgency._ _

__

__“Look at this asshole! So you do__ feel __something, huh?? But you only reacts when in pain…what are you?? A pervert, crazy jerk?”__

__

__“Let’s not go overboard, Hu Junjae.” That voice was warm, like freshly brewed coffee and Jeonghan bit his lip until it cut._ _

__

__He didn’t need a **damn** knight in shining armour, for God’s sake._ _

__

__“Who was that?!” Junjae turned around swiftly, and just as fast, a fist was planted in his face._ _

__

__The bully fell to the ground, clutching his face with both his hands and whimpering in pain. His legs and hands are curled in as the stranger came close and stood over him. Jeonghan  winced, the blood from his shoulder’s cut seeping into his white uniform. He felt tainted in some way, as if he was clean in the first place._ _

__

__“I told you, right. Let’s not go overboard.”_ _

__

__The stranger tsked and his eyes moved away from the boy on the floor to Jeonghan._ _

__

Ah.

 

He really shouldn’t have met his eyes.

__

__“Hey, my name is Choi Seungcheol. Let’s go to the nurse’s. You’re bleeding.” He offers his hand and Jeonghan scoffed, glaring at him._ _

__

__“I don’t need your help.”_ _

__

__He turned on his heels and stormed out of the class to the nurse’s room, painfully aware that this person was following him, and not even being discreet about it. Jeonghan paused at one instance and turned around sharply to find Seungcheol right in front of him, a couple of inches separating their bodies from touching each other._ _

__

__“Hi.” Seungcheol’s sweet coffee-like voice should’ve been the warning sign for Jeonghan._ _

__Or those eyes, so candied and bright._ _

__Or those arms, which he felt a disgusting incline to be held in._ _

__

__Perhaps the biggest danger of Seungcheol was his warmth, that Jeonghan was beginning to get addicted to by the seconds._ _

__

__“Why are you following me?” Seungcheol grinned at his question, shamelessly scratching the back of his head._ _

__

__“My hand hurts too…because I punched someone…ahh, let’s go together!!!” Seungcheol started to jog to catch up with Jeonghan who was walking away, trying to conceal a rare smile._ _

__

And they’ve always been like that, Seungcheol being the one chasing him, always one or two steps later and Jeonghan the one hurrying away, all while trying to hide what his heart is screaming too loudly.

 

Maybe if he didn’t run. Maybe if he wasn’t afraid. His heart wouldn’t break this way now.

 

He would’ve knelt on bloodied knees for Seungcheol, but he hasn’t thought it would be this way. Jeonghan should’ve guessed that they would take away the only angel in his life before he can feel the warmth envelops him like a fluffy blanket; away from the darkness and cold misery of his curse.

 

He should’ve known they’ll make him kneel before Seungcheol, who’s smiling vibrantly in his school blazer. A lifeless, cold picture before his coffin.

 

“He would’ve been such a great man.”

 

Jeonghan turns to his side, where an oddly familiar old lady has taken up the empty space on the bench. Her tongue clicks in distaste and she looks at him with narrowed eyes.

 

“Child, why, oh __why__ , do you __have__  to be with him?”

 

Her glance is heavy and suffocating as if weight has been placed on top of his chest, pressing in his lungs until each and every little gasp of breath feels as if it’s pulling him back from the brink of death.

 

“Child…Death should’ve been kinder…and takes you already.” The old lady places the same white flower on top of his lap, and his chest eases up after a few excruciating seconds.

 

Jeonghan clutches on his chest the moment his arms feel like they’re his again, and he’s bowing to the ground, heaving in huge breaths, his whole body trembling in fear. His eyes wander towards the flowers and this time, there’s no mistaking it.

 

The tips of the white petals have turned purple.

 

__I’ll pray for you._ _

 

Jeonghan finally lets himself cry as he bends over, slamming his face on his knees as his sobs and cries become too much for him to control; the flower crumpled up in his grip. That gripping pain in his chest is too much for him to control, far more painful than anything he had ever felt; the loneliness and fear he tried to succumb with his stupid, __stupid__ nonchalance, seeping in and taking over the void inside him that Seungcheol leaves.

 

“Why? Why?! WHY??!!!!!!!!”

 

The wind blows and for a moment, there’s a small warmth on the back of his neck, like a kiss Seungcheol used to press into his skin there whenever his veneer of normal and fine breaks apart. Jeonghan presses his palms into one another harder, until he can feel the bruise forming and leaving colours on his clear skin.

 

**__It’s okay. Everything will be okay._ _ **

__

Jeonghan looks up and around, that soft whisper the wind brings leaving him reeling, that foolish, small kindle of hope lighting up again even when he knows it’s impossible.

 

“Cheol?”

 

The wind doesn’t answer.

* * *

 


	18. Chapter 18

* * *

 

In front of him is a black hat, embedded with some kind of golden thread.

 

Behind him is an abyss.

 

“Take it, young child.” The voice is somewhat familiar, or maybe it is what he has always envisioned an old lady to sound like.

 

The lady, in her worn-out blouse and trembling cane seems so out of the picture here; almost as much as him. He looks down at his bloody shirt and sweatpants, that strange feeling of…indifference crawling underneath his skin like poison. His eyes look away from the gnarly wound near his abdomen where he can almost see his bone-white ribs, jutting out slightly, like a rose’s thorn.

 

_“Three red roses.”_

  
Someone’s brown eyes are looking at him, and a warm toothy smile is given his way. His heart blooms like a sunflower, happiness oozing off his every pore from that one simple smile.

 

“Child.”

 

He snaps out of it, shaken, his eyes wandering at the pitch black darkness that seems to extent to infinity. The only thing that’s for him to see is that black and golden hat and the old lady, whose eyes are glaring down at him.

 

“Take this cap.” Her hand holds a black, bloody cap that is torn at the side and he looks up at her. Her impatient expression turns almost immediately to a warm, motherly smile.

 

“Take this cap, and go down the abyss.” She instructs and truthfully, he should be scared. But deep down, he knows who is in front of him, no matter how __human__ she tries to disguise herself.

 

“Do you know me?” He asks and the old lady nods, slowly as if the mere gesture is hurting her.

 

“You are one of my favourites. So don’t do what I know you’re thinking of. Child, it’s better not knowing.”

 

“I don’t know who I am. I don’t want to just go on without knowing.”

_Without knowing who those brown eyes belong to._

 

His hand reaches for the black hat and the old lady’s glare turns vicious. He flinches slightly, his hand hovering hesitantly over the hat. He has offended her and it’s dangerous to be on the wrong side of a deity but he has always been…

 

_“stupid.”_

__

There’s that voice again, smooth as caramel, a cheeky jouster that pulls out a laughter from him whenever that person wants to.

 

“Child! Your choice will not bring you happiness!” She is shrieking now, her eyes shaking as he places the black hat on his hands.

 

“I promised someone something. I can’t back off on it now.”

 

_“don’t leave me please.”_

__

That voice is trembling now, muffled by his shirt and those shaking arms around his body are tightening up.

 

“Child. You’ll be taking people’s lives day by day, hiding in plain sight, not seen, not living. You will not be happy.”

 

He smirks.

 

“Good for me. I’m not looking for happiness.”

 

__I’m looking for that voice._ _

__

“If this is your choice....it is not my right to force you to go on. I do have an advice for you, and never take this lightly. Do not come near purple eyes. They’ll be your worst downfall.” The old lady says through gritted teeth before she turns around, and is swallowed by the overbearing darkness around him.

 

The golden threads from the hat snake around his arms, settling down into his skin with a pinch of pain.

 

From behind him, a voice echoes,

 

“Grim Reaper. It is time for you to descend.”

 

He turns around and faces another one of his kind, the cold expression and all black suit with a mask of indifference.

 

He puts on the hat and nods his head to the stranger.

 

He no longer has a name, but he is an existence, stuck between the living and hereafter.

 

He doesn’t have anything that is his, except for the memories of a sweet voice and a pair of twinkling brown eyes that look at him as if he holds the world in his hands.

 

__It is enough._ _

 

 He tells himself.

 

_**It is enough.** _

 

* * *

 

It is only normal for him.

It is _only natural_ for him, they say.

 

His family name is _**Yoon**_ , it’s obvious that he’ll be one of the richest men in South Korea by the age of 27.

 

Even if his family had disowned him.

Even if he was abandoned by everyone.

Even if he stepped on people who call themselves his friends to get here.

 

Even so.

 

Yoon Jeonghan looks out of his office, towering at the level 38 of his building. He likes being here, where the people underneath are too far and too little for him to see; to care about.

 

He knows that the workers whisper.

 

Yoon Jeonghan, the Ice Prince of South Korea’s socialites. His office, or his throne room, some says in far-fetched tales, is where he sits, above and isolated from the people below him. The main door is a gate to Hades; with icy cold gaze greeting you the moment you decide to step in. Everything in the throne room is black, as befitting to his soul. There’s nothing warm or pleasant in the room just like how there’s none in him.

 

He knows that they hate him and printed papers they call money is the only thing that keeps them attached to him. Jeonghan knows how almost no one is brave enough to look him in the eyes or to share a lift with him during the hectic mornings. He knows filling the secretary position is near impossible once it is empty; and it is almost always empty.

 

Yoon Jeonghan knows of the legendary ‘1 metre radius’. He knows that people say they’ll get goosebumps if they stand within one metre to him. Perhaps the hate that he has towards himself is imposing towards others, persuading them to hate him too.

 

Truthfully, Jeonghan wouldn’t blame them.

 

Not when he knows how much of a monster he is.

 

The familiar click-clack of high heels swivel his chair around, and a self-deprecating smile appears on his lips when manicured fingers reach out for the picture on his desk.

 

“Still?” She asks and Jeonghan clicks his tongue.

 

“Always.” He snatches the picture of her hand and traces the charred sides with his finger on the glass.

 

“You know that they all hate you, right?” Jihye is a smart woman, smart enough to be his second-in-command but her loose lips and snarky attitude is nothing short of her intellect.

 

“I know, and I don’t care. Now shall we go? I thought we have a meeting to attend to.” Jeonghan buttons his grey blazer and swiftly walks out of the black office and Jihye cackles.

 

“Don’t lie too brazenly, Jeonghan-ah. Your face always looks like you’ll cry whenever I touch that picture.” She says to herself, putting down the picture face-down on the desk.

 

Jeonghan pauses by the door and turns slightly back to look at her. His mellow eyes stare at her until that sinking feeling seeps in and she can no longer hold his gaze.

 

“I did lie. That I don’t care. They were my family. My first one.”

 

He still remembers the warmth of seven years ago, feels it in his bones on the days when he lets his delusional side to take over and his whole office becomes just another stage for the imaginary fragments in his brain to play house. He remembers the day when he has a home, instead of a penthouse that might as well be a show house. He still laughs at some of their jokes whenever he allows himself to play back the good old days, when the deep-rooted simplicity of his happiness was everything to him.

 

Jihye remembers the thirteen smiling faces looking at the camera, and the one whose hands are intertwined with his boss’s.

 

“Then, that person in red cap…” Jeonghan turns away from her and closes the door behind him with a bang.

 

Her high heels cackle as she runs towards her superior, barely managing to catch him before the lift door outside of his office closes.

 

“Don’t talk about him. Never talk about him. If you want to work here, don’t.” His gritted teeth is grinding against one another and Jihye nods her head quickly.

 

__So he’s the one…the one that turns him into the Ice Prince._ _

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> literally started writing after listening to second life and fear bc this will go on being basically a combination of both. so enjoy and please comments down below if you want! i love hearing feedbacks especially since i stopped writing for a while and it feels strange to start again huhuhu


	19. Chapter 19

“It’s a happy day. I’m happy today.”

 

“You’re sure? You don’t look that well.”

_Yeah, no shit._

“I don’t know what you’re saying, doc. I feel amazing.” The counselor sighs and sets down his basic as fuck notebook and the pen with that pretentious initials that make him roll his eyes.

 

“Mr Lee, if you want me to help you, then you need to help me here. Do you want me to help you?”

 

_Okay, now he’s real._

“I do, I…” He stares at the floor instead, chuckling at himself.

 

“It’s been…years, haven’t it? You’re so much more than that little kid who broke my favourite vase in the first 10 minutes you were here.”

 

He takes off his cap and sets it down on the table, ruffling his hair with his fingers.

 

“I don’t know what to tell you doc. Today is supposed to be happy.” The doctor nods his head, staring at him promptly.

 

“I mean. My album’s sales are spiking and people actually love my songs. But I just…”

 

“Is it him?” The doctor said nonchalantly, rising up now to pull back his heavy curtains.

 

“It’s not just him, it’s…them. I just…this all felt like nothing because they’re not here.”

 

Silence. The doctor waters his plants.

 

“Pathetic, ain’t it?” He laughs again at himself .

 

“No. I don’t think it’s pathetic. Is it pathetic to want a family around?”

 

“Family, huh? You know, you’re really something, doc. See you later.” He put his cap on back, presses it down his head and sighs as he pushes the door open.

 

He realises someone is following him as he steps outside of the towering building, and he turns around.

 

No one.

 

He’s really losing his marbles these days.

\--

Huuuh.

 

He really thought he’s caught.

This man, Lee Jihoon, is it?

He’s been following him since yesterday, when he first heard his song in the TV.

The song Goodbye.

The man looks normal enough on the outside but the moment he’s on stage….

Even the dead him feels _something_ thrumming inside his veins.

 

So yes, perhaps he’s a little curious. As to why the man who looks like he would be the happiest person on Earth, hasn’t been smiling once since he left the stage.

It’s hard to get used to not being seen…but for that one moment that Jihoon’s curious eyes make him turn around, he’s grateful.

 

Grateful to be invisible.

Though supposedly, he is about to be on his way to take someone’s life.

_Perhaps I'll see you again, Lee Jihoon. Not too soon, though._

The man clad in black turns away from the forlorn artist, and heads for the car crash that is about to happen on the intersection 3 blocks away.

And the artist turns around just in time, to see no one there, just like always.


	20. Chapter 20

 

One of these days…

One of these days…

 

One of these days, he’ll break apart and disappear…and nobody will even bat an eye.

He takes a look at the shot in his hand. And laughs.

 

It’s funny, isn’t it?

 

How intoxicating soju can be, falsely pretending to be water, bitter as it flows down his throat as he pretends that he doesn’t have the worries of the entire world on his back.

 

“Kwon Soonyoung! You’re here again!” He smiles up at whoever it is that says his name and sees a scowling face directed towards him.

 

“Yah! Just because we lost doesn’t mean you can drown in soju like this, man…” It must be one of the juniors in his club, since his batchmates no longer care about this little habit of his.

 

“Ahjumma, let me pay for this guy, please.” Soonyoung hears sarcely as he steps out of the tent and walks towards the lake.

 

The cold lake seems tempting in the heavy, lonely winter night and Soonyoung begins shedding his jacket.

 

“Hyung!”

 

“Imma go…for a quick dip…don’t worry…” He’s slurring his words but he gives the most convincing thumbs-up to the junior.

 

Perhaps if he wishes a little bit hard, the water will swallow him whole, along with all the demons in his head.

 

“Hey.”

 

Soonyoung turns around.

 

“Who are you, ahjussi?”

 

“The Grim Reaper.”

 

Soonyoung laughs at the answer and sees a small smile under that black hat the stranger bears.

 

“You show up at just the right time, ahjussi. Can I ask you a question?” The black figure shrugs.

 

That’s good enough for Soonyoung. So he opens his mouth, poised in a cheeky smile, “What does hell look like?” There’s something funny about how the question sounds against the cold winter breeze, with smoke puffing out his mouth with every syllable.

 

“I don’t know. I’ve never been there.” Soonyoung pouts and rolls his eyes at the stranger in the smart, dark hat. Then, he takes in the frozen oxygen molecules like a drag of a cig, deep and burning into his lungs.

 

“It’s okay, ahjussi. I’ll tell you how it is when I’m down there.”

 

“HYUNG!!” Soonyoung turns around and catches the figure in neon jacket running towards him.

 

“Ahjussi, please stop that person for me. Just once, I just want to feel nothing just once.”

 

It’s sad how beautiful the young man’s eyes are, void of anything but emptiness as if the world has let him down and down again. Those eyes that seem to belong to the ones who defy destiny as if it is in their blood, only seem soulless in front of him.

 

He looks at the neon-clad figure, now coming closer by the seconds, his loud footsteps sloshing with the snow alongside his laboured breath the only clear sounds from the three of them and the young man, looking at him with that cynical smile as he takes one big stride after another, closer and closer to the edge of the railing where onwards, it would only be an almost ten feet drop down the freezing lake.

 

“SOONYOUNG HYUNG!!!!”

 

The other guy won’t reach him in time.

The young man will die when he falls.

_If he falls._

 

Soonyoung looks up at the pretty, dark blue sky, no stars to be seen with all of Seoul’s light pollution but it somehow looks pretty at that moment. Is it true what others say; that everything seems prettier when you’re about to die?

 

_I’m sorry. I’m really sorry._

 

He lets go of his footing and the gravity does its work, pulling down his weight towards where his life will end. His surprisingly, cruelly, perfectly, short life.

 

A hand snatches on his arm before the waters can swallow him whole and he looks up.

 

“I don’t have your name in my list, you know.” The stranger is smiling, his hat has fallen down and Soonyoung feels cold tears tracking down his face.

 

“Seungcheol hyung.”

 

_And so I have a name._


End file.
